


Remus Lupin's Diary

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, Drama, Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-13
Updated: 2008-08-31
Packaged: 2018-10-27 12:02:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: The title says it all. From January 1978 to December 1978. Companion piece to "Sirius Black's Diary."





	1. January 1978

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:

New Years' at Sirius', back to school, a misunderstanding, and breaking a resolution.

* * *

**1 January 1978**  
It's almost noon; I am at Sirius' flat in London, along with Lily, James, Peter, Frank, and Alice. Frank and Alice are stirring, the first signs of life after last night's New Years party. Thank god for werewolf metabolism. I can drink anyone under the table and not suffer a hangover the next day. I suppose I ought to jot down a few resolutions it being New Year's Day:  
1) Get my own flat after graduation.  
2) Give up on a lost cause. Sirius is straight, your best friend, and you do not need to mess it up by having unrequited feelings for him.  
3) Get at least Outstanding on all NEWT subjects.  
Peter's awake now. Frank and Alice have left. I believe I'll let the others enjoy a bit of a lie-in and I'll go study for a bit.

**8:30 pm**  
I am at my parents' home now. I am such an idiot! A complete imbecile! An absolute nutter! I stayed to help Sirius clean up after the party; I was the only one who did. He ordered Indian take-away for supper. There's this great restaurant just round the corner from his flat; the owner's son just graduated from Hogwarts last year, Patil. Anyway, the food was amazing really; we were so hungry we sat on the floor and ate out of the cartons, like an indoor picnic. I then had to reach for the chicken curry the same time he did and then I proceeded to blather like some moron: "oh, no, terribly sorry, you go, no I insist." Ugh. I hope I didn't blush when his hand brushed mine. Sweet Merlin let not embarrass myself further on the train to school. Need to owl Lily about this.

**3 January 1978**  
It's the first day back; I did not embarrass myself on the train ride. Supper was delicious as always. Lessons resume tomorrow. And James wants to confront Sirius about hiding something from us. I told him to drop it; Sirius is bound to tell us if something is amiss. But no, James is waiting to pounce the second Sirius comes in the door. There he is now, I best mediate.

**9:30 pm**  
Sirius has disappeared. I did not handle that announcement well. Sirius was hiding something; he's recently decided that he is homosexual. Which I am not sure how to take, I really hope this isn't one of his stunts. When he said it, I think I stopped breathing; I had to leave the room. I managed to make it down 6 or 7 steps before sitting in a heap. I got to hear his tirade about how he would have thought I'd be more accepting. That's not why I left, I left because I am in love with my best friend who has just revealed that he is also homosexual. Thereby dashing one of my resolutions to pieces. I have never had much hope for that kind of happiness for myself. Oh yes, I'm quite ill with love and boundless possibilities. I'm not a complete, hopeless, romantic ponce though; I would desire nothing more than fucking Sirius through the mattress and hear he scream my name as he comes.

**5 January 1978**  
I am acting like a nutter, I know. I can't make eye contact with Sirius. I'm afraid he'll be able to see straight into my soul, and reject me. Just because he's gay does not mean he has anymore than friendly feelings towards me. And I made a complete prat of myself trying to apologise for my abrupt departure Sunday night. I don't even remember what I said exactly, but I do recall saying "oh bother" at one point. Who says that really? I couldn't breathe let alone think, especially when his blue, blue eyes are staring right into my heart. I can't even be in the showers the same time as him. I'm afraid I'll lose control and jump him, or at least make him drop the soap.

**9:00 pm**  
This is all getting to be too much. Lily keeps telling me I should just tell him how I feel. Oh, yes, lovely advice there. Not only face rejection and humiliation but lose best friend in the process as well. I'm not going to subject myself to that much cruelty. Even if she claims to see signs of his "affection" for me. I see nothing other than friendly concern. I believe she's delusional, and I blame James for that.

**9 January 1978**  
Well, two days ago I met Sirius in the library to talk; Lily set that up. I fear I pissed him off. He kept asking me questions I wasn't ready to answer. I had to keep telling him that I didn't have a problem with his homosexuality. Then he kept going on about how he'd like to believe that, but my actions were not matching my words; he thought I was lying. He started yelling and Madam Pince threw us out. So, then I was pissed off for being banned from the library and started muttering under my breath about what an intolerable prat Sirius was. I honestly thought he couldn't hear me. I was wrong. He retaliated well below the belt and I left him standing there stammering his apologies. I'm still perplexed. And James is "protecting" me from "The Great Prat." I've already forgiven Sirius; I just want to discover why he would strike so low.

**9:30 pm**  
Lily's answer to my question seems reasonable yet highly unlikely. And she would scoff at me if she read that last sentence. Lily believes that he hit so low because he took a great, personal offence at my apparent lack of understanding. Strike the first blow before being rejected. Sure, right. Sirius wants to shag me senseless. Right. Although, that would explain his behaviour of late.

**12 January 1978**  
The strain is beginning to wear me out. I wish James would leave us alone to sort it out. At least I was allowed back in the library yesterday, that is good. I am still upset with the words Sirius chose to say. I don't need to be reminded of what I am, thank you. The wolf makes sure I don't ever forget. Great, Sirius looked at me just then in all of my angst-ridden glory. Wonderful, now he's going to think it was his fault. Lovely, James cut him off before he could say anything.

**12:30 pm**  
Ate lunch, taking a study break. I'm back into the groove of lessons. In ten days I'll be on another full moon run with Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail. I still haven't had the opportunity to talk to Sirius alone. However, I did have the opportunity to tell off James. He is properly chagrined at his behaviour. Sirius is sucking on the end of his quill. I really wish he were sucking something else. Bad Remus. Bad, bad Remus. Fucking brilliant, now I need a cold shower. Not enough time before lessons. Good thing school robes are quite roomy.

**16 January 1978**  
Leave for Hogsmeade in a few. All is well among the marauders. Sirius is dragging me to Zonko's. Why he doesn't ask James...right, Lily. It's not like I plan any pranks with them either. Right, I get to go shopping with a hyperactive puppy. And I have no idea why Lily is insisting I borrow her book. She just winked and said "You'll see why." Girls!

**10:30 pm**  
Girls! indeed. Girls are bloody brilliant little connivers. Seems Sirius and she were passing notes about me. The gist of his side was, well here's the note:

_Who kicked your dog? L.E._

Ha Ha Lily. It's just, it's just so bloody awful being rejected before you have the chance to say anything. I wish I could kiss away the hurt look in his eyes, the pain I caused him. I really fucked up utterly. I don't know what to do or say.

So now what do I do? Naturally I'll behave as though I never saw that note. He doesn't know she kept it in that book, right?

**17 January 1978**  
Will be going to the library shortly with Sirius, Lily, James, and Peter. That is, as soon as I wake up Sirius. It's already 9; he needs to get his lazy arse out of bed now if we want to get a good table at the library. He has to be the laziest person I know and at the same time the most manic. I don't know how he can do that, but that's just Sirius. And Lily has dared me to say something to Sirius within the next twelve hours. I'm utterly fucked.

**1:00 pm**  
Mound of books in front of me. Sirius is sitting on the other side of the mound. He's writing in his journal. I hope he didn't notice me staring at him during lunch. I was trying to gauge what his reaction could be to my announcement. He writes in his journal with a muggle pen. I don't believe him; he's sucking on the pen cap while he's writing away. That is not helping the situation in my pants. At all. Maybe if I glare at him, he'll stop. Good. He stopped. He's back to studying. Now Lily wants her book back. I kept the note. Maybe I'll hand him the note and say something witty.

**4:30 pm**  
Sirius disappeared after our last break around 3:30. James is assuming he went to take a nap or go on a kitchen raid. Peter thinks he went looking for mischief because he had been still for over 5 hours--a world record for Sirius. Lily is not so subtly hinting that I should pack it in and go look for him. I haven't figured out what I want to say though. God, she just said "Live for the moment, Remus!" Bollocks. All right. I'm packing up. I'll go back to the dorm and start my search there. She's also reminded me that now I have 4 hours and 20 minutes left to fulfill my dare. I just don't know what to say. I'll wait until after supper and concentrate on locating him first.

**18 January 1978**  
Things are progressing too quickly and yet not fast enough. That note was a godsend. I bend my knee and worship at the altar of the fiery Lily Evans. The girl is quite clever and devious. I ought to get a small token of appreciation for tolerating my constant whinging about my "unrequited" feelings for Sirius. Perhaps a dict-a-quill for her Head Girl duties? Right, the note and dare. I realised he left because he realised I had probably read the note. After supper, I had him alone in the dorm room. I showed him the note and suggested he start kissing. Which he did and somehow I found myself on my back on his bed with him on top of me and both our shirts removed. I had enough presence of mind to charm the bed hangings closed. Our dorm mates, oh that's nice. Wait. Sirius stop that. Dear lord stop that. He took his shoe off and is rubbing his foot in my crotch. Not at lunch in public. What if a professor comes over? Never mind. Don't stop. Don't ever stop. *growls* Now he stops. Oh, Professor McGonagall is walking by.

**19 January 1978**  
Full moon is 3 days away. I can already feel Moony's hackles. He wants Padfoot. He won't have him; I won't let him do anything. We have not progressed beyond heavy snogging with which I am quite content. Firstly, I don't want to lose control, and secondly, our dorm mates cannot seem to give us a moment's peace so we can get a piece. I must not give in to my baser instincts this close to the full moon. I want him. I want to take his cock into my mouth and slowly lick up the shaft, swirl my tongue around the tip, and then swallow him whole, over and over again. See what I mean? It's never been this bad before, not even this summer when I fooled around with that muggle on vacation. We never got to actual shagging, but I am well versed in the finer arts of oral sex, including rimming. You would think that my time spent in a canine form I would have already known about that... I wonder what Sirius tastes like? Oh, sod it all! I hate writing in my journal this close to the full moon; it's always so disjointed when I go back to read it. I can't focus... I hope James and Sirius have fool proofed the plan for the run on Friday.... I want to feel his hands on me, his mouth...That's it! No more writing!

**24 January 1978**  
I hate James! He doesn't even have the sense to knock. At least he barged in when I was coming. I've locked myself in my bed. I'm not going out until I know James is asleep. I do want to go out now though just to embarrass him further. Sirius is good, very, very good. I love the feel of his lips and mouth wrapped around my cock. He said he wanted to pleasure me after the pain of the transformation. That and "ever since you kissed me, all I've wanted to do is taste all of you." Sirius just came back from wherever it was he went.

**25 January 1978 12:05 am**  
James has finally gone to sleep. And so has Sirius. He went down before James. He went down... Okay, I need to stop that. I think I can chance going over to Sirius' bed and snuggling with him. Won't he be surprised when he wakes up in the morning? Think I'll sleep nude also, really surprise him in the morning.

**27 January 1978**  
I'm tired of walking around with a constant erection. Sirius has extra Quidditch practice this week due to the upcoming match against Hufflepuff this Saturday. I believe I will have to give in to my baser impulses and have my wicked way with him after the match. Gryffindor is certain to win, which will result in a long, loud party. This means that we could sneak off somewhere unnoticed. Where? Someplace nice where no one would be at a late hour. Prefect's Bath! Perfect. I must plan this carefully so no one has any idea what I'm up to.

**30 January 1978**  
Gryffindor won, naturally. I will be grabbing Sirius shortly, already have the map and cloak. Mmm, water sex. Imagine the positions I could out him in and vice versa. Sirius dripping with water, running down his chest... Okay, fuck waiting, I'm kidnapping him now.


	2. February 1978

**1 February 1978**  
Why do I put up with him? Really, why? Not only does he embarrass James at supper, he has to drag me into it as well. And then he makes it impossible for me to be angry with him by just flashing a smile. How does he do it? I need to know. Maybe then I could resist. Okay, that's wishful thinking. But still. I am making plans for Valentine's Day, the Room of Requirement. I go there when I don't want to be disturbed. I found it during my first year when I was having problems adjusting.  
  
 **4 February 1978**  
Sirius got detention for losing his temper during our Potions lesson today. If he would have let the point loss go...but he hadn't brewed his potion incorrectly. I know; I was watching him. And according to Peter, Severus added something to Sirius' cauldron that changed the potion. Sirius knows better than to leave his cauldron unattended. Speaking of the devil, Sirius has just told us what potion Severus changed it to and we can't stop laughing. It's a Stonker Draught as James just named it. I don't want to know why Severus made it. That knowledge alone could put me off sex for weeks.  
  
 **5 February 1978**  
We covered Lupercalia in History of Magic yesterday. Nothing was brought up concerning werewolf-mating habits. The holiday was a feast honouring the pastoral god Lupercus. Muggle/Wizard relations were also discussed; the two societies hadn't separated until 4th century A.D. In other news, Sirius got points back but still must serve out his detention. It appears that someone snitched on Severus. As Professor Bunsen has no evidence of Severus' action; Severus will go unpunished. That means that James, Sirius, Peter and I will be awake half the night plotting our revenge. Hogsmeade visit next weekend; I'll need to get supplies for Valentine's Day. I'm thinking sandalwood candles, blue satin sheets, pillows, a Jacuzzi, and enough food to last two days. I can get the food in Hogsmeade; the room will provide the rest. A whole night and most of the next day to do nothing but make love. Looking forward to it. Now, how in the world do I keep my shopping from Sirius?  
  
 **7 February 1978**  
We are still formulating a plan of retaliation. Personally, I think it unwise to torment Severus any further than we already have done. Sirius' little fan club of 5th and 6th year girls has him surrounded... Trying not to growl at the poor, delusional things. Oh god no. He's telling them the story of summer before 2nd year. Again. And James is helping. Anything for an audience. Those birds really are enraptured. Sirius' eyes are lit up and he's gesticulating wildly. Those hands were tangled in my hair not too long ago. Such powerful, callused hands, yet so gentle and delicate. That's Sirius, a jumble of contradictions. He's viewed as a jester, forever downplaying his aptitude when really he is one of the most intelligent and clever people I know. There really isn't one dull or dim thing about him. He really is a star. Great, now I can't watch him without picturing him naked! Bleeding wonderful! Am I to be a captive of Moony's impulses forever?  
  
 **10 February 1978**  
Why bother? Why make me take a test for a job I can never have? All it will do is make me depressed. I will most likely receive the highest result in the class. This Friday my DADA class is taking a mock Auror entrance exam, the written part. The students who score in the 80% or above will be invited to participate in a practical exam given by a top Auror. I'm not doing it. I'll take the written exam because I have no choice, but not the practical. I'm not allowed to work for the ministry, being a "beast" and all. Everyone else thinks this is so exciting and wonderful, especially Sirius. He should know why I don't have my knickers in a bunch like everyone else! I can never have what other people take for granted: a good job that utilises my talents. I'm starting to question my parents' judgment in allowing me to attend Hogwarts; all it has done is give me false hope and knowledge and skills that no one will ever ask me to use. Fuck, now I've gone and sunk further into depression. But what other choice do I have? I have no options to be of service.  
  
 **12 February 1978**  
Well, the mock exam certainly challenged me to use my knowledge. I particularly enjoyed the essays that allowed me to respond to different scenarios. I have Hogsmeade to look forward to tomorrow. Frank has the flu, so I'm helping Alice buy a "birthday present" for Frank's mum. I hope Sirius doesn't know Mrs. Longbottom already celebrated her birthday in November. Here's the plan: get food and "supplies," arrive late for lunch, order ice cream and use it to drive Sirius mad, cheerfully ignore Sirius' temper and lead him into temptation, then lock us in the room until the food runs out. Good plan, no? That's why when I plan a prank and everyone sticks to the plan, we never get caught. I think of everything. You have to when your opponent is Argus Filch.  
  
 **13 February, 1978**  
In Madam Puddifoot's with Alice. It's 12:25, 25 minutes after we're supposed to meet Sirius at the Three Broomsticks. I spent too much at the bookshop. It was leftover Christmas money so I don't feel too guilty. Need to keep him waiting a bit longer; he's so sexy when he's hot and bothered. Mmm... seduction by ice cream. I finished my tea. Alice is talking to a few of her Ravenclaw friends. Lovely, I can hear what they're giggling about, me and Alice. "Although, he is quite helpful, isn't he Alice?" "Not bad looking either." "And responsible, for a Gryffindor." "Is he seeing anyone, Alice?" Yes, and his name is Sirius Black. Alice is trying to escape. We have definitely let Sirius wait long enough. Need to get away from these vapid, giggling girls. Why can't they be more like Lily or Alice even? Speaking of which, I need to collect Alice and go to the Three Broomsticks; I'm feeling peckish.  
  
 **16 February, 1978**  
Got the DADA test result back. I'm not opening it. I left it upstairs on my bedside table. James and Severus got 91%. I know I did well on it, but it doesn't matter. I was going to write about the past weekend; it was incredible, but I'm not in the mood. I feel like being pitiful for a while. I'm not going to the practical exam. I wish Sirius would stop bringing the subject up. Alastor Moody is overseeing the test. The Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. It would be worth it to go just to meet him. But what would be the purpose in going? To discover that I could be the most qualified wizard my age to become an Auror? Yet, the same Ministry to which I could be a great asset says I cannot help because I am a dark creature? I'm just so pissed off! Vampires, blood-draining fiends who DO have control over their urges and alternatives to killing but choose to kill are "beings" but a person who for 8-12 hours once a bloody month cannot control what they are, are "creatures?" It's not fucking right! I need to go take a shower and calm down before something else sets me off..  
  
 **9:00 pm**  
Lovely. Now Sirius is reading my personal effects. He had to open my test results. I scored highest in the class. He was acting like it was the greatest thing in the world. It's not. It only emphasizes how wrong the world is and how much I am not welcome in it. There is a terrible war on and I would be of great help; no one wants it because I am a werewolf. I wish I could forget that, but I can't. I mustn't. And the full is only 4 days away. And I don't want Sirius near me. Moony's getting too aggressive; I might hurt Sirius inadvertently, and he'd let me, which is worse.  
  
 **19 February 1978**  
Full moon tomorrow night. I've been spending a lot of time between the showers and Prefect's Bath. Just not the same, doesn't satisfy like his mouth. Sucking. His tongue licking, lapping up every centimeter. The wet heat. His breath. Fingers teasing my balls. The look in his eyes as he sucks harder, taking me deeper. How his muscles ripple with my touch. How tight he feels around my cock. How he rises to meet my thrusts. How his cock twitches in my hand just before we come together. How he moans as I lick his stomach clean. I want him now. Always.  
  
 **21 February 1978**  
Late evening. No more visitors allowed. Agony, every muscle aches. My bones feel so old. Madam Pomfrey almost had to physically remove Sirius from hospital tonight. He's so loyal, just like a dog. Padfoot suits him perfectly. What did we do last night? Run to London and back? Must stop getting distracted by the previous entry. It still holds true; I'm just too tired to do anything about it presently. I should probably go to sleep now. Need rest if I am to be allowed to leave hospital early. I am submitting to Sirius; I'll go to the practical. Now I need to read up on dueling hexes and the like. Maybe study the Patronus Charm; we're covering those in Flitwick's class in March. Must go to sleep now.  
  
 **23 February 1978**  
Buried in books. I have been attempting to teach my friends the Patronus charm. Peter can't do it at all, James gets a wisp of smoke, and Sirius got a shapeless mass of silver. He's almost got it. I believe James is a little jealous of that. My muscles are still sore, but at least they aren't cramping.  
  
 **24 February 1978**  
Sirius did it! He conjured a proper Patronus! I'm so proud of him; it's quite advanced magic. His took the form of a wolf, which shocked me a little. James managed a silver cloud and Peter got a wisp. We then practiced hexes and shield charms. I'd say we're rather prepared for Friday's practical. We've been practicing in the room of requirement. In addition to my duties as Prefect, studying for N.E.W.T.s, and the practical, I also have to fend off an insatiable boyfriend. I'm no blushing virgin myself, but I just have too much to do. I'm not interested at the moment. And I need to catch up on my assignments. Another late night tonight.  
  
 **26 February 1978**  
I am so embarrassed. I fell asleep during History of Magic yesterday. I even drooled on my notes. At least breakfast is good this morning. God, how can Sirius eat that much syrup? Now he's licking his fingers; where are his manners? The bastard! The practical is today. I need to have a clear mind and he's sucking the syrup off his fingers and moaning. I need to leave. Now.  
  
 **12:30 pm**  
I am sitting at the opposite end of the table from Sirius. Do not need a repeat of this morning: at breakfast, Sirius sucked on his fingers as if he were sucking something else entirely. So I excused myself by saying I needed to go back for a book. I practically ran to the boys' lavatory, filled the sink with cold water, splashed me face, tried to quiet the uprising in my pants, and who should walk in except for the devil himself. Right. Sirius found himself pinned with his back to the wall and my tongue shoved down his throat. It would have got worse had Peter not shown up. So, I'm avoiding Sirius until well after the practical. Hmm, now he's banging his head on the table. Glad to see he's more frustrated than me. I think I'll make him wait a bit longer as punishment for the stunt at breakfast.  
  
 **27 February 3:30 am**  
Why the early entry? Sirius has disappeared from my bed. He is most likely in the common room writing in his journal so as not to wake me. I had planned on writing about the practical earlier, but never got to it. Sirius decided to give me a "massage" after my bath this evening. The practical wore me out. Quick note: remember to give Sirius a "massage" in the near future. The Practical. Several obstacle courses were set up, 2 people per course, one to defend an object, one to steal said object. My first turn in, I faced a Ravenclaw, Prewett. My goal was to defend. I had five minutes and I was successful. The next course, I kept the same objective, no one else did, and had two minutes. I was paired with Snape. We dueled for a minute before I was able to get in a Confundus hex and a Misdirection spell. Dueling with Severus was a physical strain, but I managed to keep him off me and waited serenely while the clock ran out. Moody pulled me aside after it was finished. He wants me to meet with him and Dumbledore on Monday. Something I must not tell anyone about. Not even Sirius, and he's going to love that. Speaking of Sirius, where the bloody hell is he? Leaving me all alone in this cold bed with unfulfilled needs. Bastard. Perhaps I ought to look for him instead of whining. Good idea. Put away journal, hunt for Sirius, and whenever and wherever I find him, shag him senseless. Excellent plan. Remember to scourgify afterwards. And silencing charm before. Now, I'm off to fuck Sirius silly.


	3. March 1978

**1 March 1978**  
I still cannot believe I had sex in a public place. Anyone could have walked into the common room and seen me buggering Sirius. I lost control. I just wanted him so desperately, I didn't think of the consequences. But, bloody hell it felt good! I had my meeting with Dumbledore and Moody today. And Sirius is now trying the cold shoulder approach to get me to tell him about Friday. He tried pouting at lunch. Next method he will attempt will be overkill on sex. He can try every trick in his book and I won't tell him; I can't. There are lives at stake. I'd rather Dumbledore would just call Sirius, James, Peter, and Lily to his office and explain. But he won't, not yet. Moody is going to train me as an auror, for a defence league against Voldemort and his followers. I won't go into detail here; Sirius might read it.  
  
 **2 March 1978**  
I called it. He's now in overkill on teasing. Thank Merlin Sirius can't deny me anything. If he had stronger willpower, I would have died by now. My birthday is in 13 days. I'll be 18 years old. I'm certain to get more books. That's what everyone usually gets me. Except, Sirius got me a pair of leather gloves for Christmas. They're very nice; they have a warming charm woven into the fabric. I'm eager to see what he'll get me for my birthday. It should be interesting considering the recent turn of events in our relationship. I only hope it is something that I can unwrap without embarrassment in front of our friends. I wouldn't say no to chocolate either.  
  
 **4 March 1978**  
There's a flu epidemic on. Sirius is getting cranky. I can tell he's coming down with it, but he refuses to see Madam Pomfrey for some Pepper-Up potion. If he doesn't nip this in the bud, he's going to be put in the hospital wing. Influenza is nothing to fool around with. I don't care if he thinks he recovers quickly; he needs to take better care of himself. He is so irresponsible. Everyone else comes first; he'll be okay. It's infuriating at times. He never worries about himself; okay, he does tend to overanalyse his actions, but he needs a keeper. I really don't see how he is able to survive on his own; he's so dependent. And he gets away with it. People bend over backwards for him, except James. Not that Sirius likes those people, but they do. It's just so difficult trying to understand him sometimes. He's not needy or clingy, but you get this overwhelming urge to take care of him. It's as if you sense he doesn't take the time to do it himself.  
  
 **5 March 1978**  
Well, he did it. Sirius is in hospital with the flu. He has to spend the night. And Hortia MacDougal is trying to steal my boyfriend using phermerone-laced get-well cards. Too bad they don't work on gay men. She almost had James though, wait until I tell Lily. Quidditch match tomorrow, Hufflepuff vs. Slytherin. Sirius will not be allowed to attend. He's too stubborn for his own good. I start training the Friday after March's full moon. I'm looking forward to it, the training. I have some manuals to read, then 2 hours each Friday of some sort of training. Because of the werewolf strength, stamina, flexibility, I can skip over that portion of the training. I just hope Sirius doesn't overreact about my disappearances.  
  
 **8 March 1978**  
I was busy cuddling with Sirius for most of the weekend, plus my Prefect duties. At supper tonight, Sirius had to kiss me. A quick one, just to let MacDougal, among others, know that he doesn't swing that way. I knew he was going to and honestly thought he'd go for the full snog/instant erection kiss, but he didn't. Sometimes he does know how to behave himself. I am very grateful for those moments. Of course, I get to punish him when he's been bad too, naughty puppy that he is.  
  
 **10 March 1978**  
Sirius is feeling much, much better. Which means he is snogging me every chance he gets. It's been too long since we've done anything. I'll have to get him alone tonight. I miss the feel of his bare skin touching mine. His scent, like a musky breeze. His voice, sultry and husky breathing in my ear, telling me deeper, harder, faster, please, now... Want him. Need him. Oh Merlin do I need him...  
  
 **8:45 pm**  
Shite! I've really done it now. I let Moony get the better of me. It wouldn't have been so hard...difficult had Sirius not been prowling. I swear, he's more predatory than I am. He kept pulling me into alcoves to push against me and shove his tongue down my throat. Not that I was passive or complaining, but it makes it difficult to concentrate in class with a throbbing erection. Especially when all I wanted to do was rip off Sirius' clothes, pin him to the wall, and fuck him. Hard. Stop thinking that! Anyway, Sirius went for a shower and I followed him in, and did pin him against the wall, sucked him off, fucked him, and sucked him off again. I'm disgusting; I'm nothing more than a carnal demon sometimes. And why he lets me do this to him I'll never understand.  
  
 **12 March 1978**  
I was briefed today on my training. Moody is organising a few things up in the mountains around Hogsmeade. Next Friday we’ll go over my schedule, the 26th I begin the training. I am a bit frightened actually. Dumbledore and Moody can get into a great deal of trouble over me. Not only lose their careers, but they could also end up in Azkaban. Not that the Ministry would want to look worse than they already do. At least not Bartemis Crouch Sr. The man’s so uptight you could shove a piece of coal up his arse and produce a diamond 10 seconds later. The man needs to leave the office more and pay attention to the bearer of his good name. Junior’s a Ravenclaw, 1 year below me and has been keeping close company with the Lestrange brothers and Bellatrix. If Barty Crouch wants to “eliminate dark threats” he should start in his own damn home.  
  
 **14 March 1978**  
My birthday is tomorrow and Sirius has detention. I wonder what he has up his sleeve... He left his journal open; James had some sort of emergency. I’ll just take a quick peek; he’ll never know. Oh my, Chocolate Body Paint... Sweet Merlin, thank you for blessing me with such a delicious lover. He’s planning on being the canvas. First off, he remembered I love to paint; it’s quite soothing really. Secondly, he knows I love chocolate; okay, everyone knows that. Lastly, he knows I love tasting every inch of his skin. He has got me the perfect birthday present. Okay, must go down to the common room now to calm Lily down.  
  
 _Nice note. I was wondering if you could teach me how to paint. You’d make a delicious canvas as well. –Sirius_  
  
 **6:30 pm**  
Damn it. I’ve been waddling around with an erection the last 2 hours. I don’t think I’ll make it until midnight tonight. Cold shower. Need cold shower as Sirius is nowhere to be found. Think I’m just going to paint his cock, no use in painting anything else when I’m this randy. Paint his cock, listen to him moan as I lick and suck. Feel his balls tighten under my touch. Smell his sweat and musk mixed with chocolate. Not helping my hard on at all. Need some release. Off to the showers.  
  
 **15 March 1978**  
I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. Dumbledore caught us this morning. At that point, we were just sleeping, thank Merlin. What he must think of me. He didn’t really scold us, per se, but seemed rather amused. He suggested bringing an alarm clock the next time we plan a romantic evening. He took points off for skiving off a lesson. Lovely way to start one’s birthday. He seemed to be examining us. Though I have no idea what he was searching for.  
  
 **16 March 1978**  
I cannot fucking believe Sirius! While we were in the shower this morning, I noticed something. A big fucking bruise near his collarbone. By big fucking bruise, I mean an enormous bite mark. And he acts like it isn’t a big deal! It’s another reminder that I need to control myself, the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Or in this case, 18-year-old wizard and bloodthirsty ravaging beast. I must have bit him during my birthday “celebration.” And he didn’t fucking say anything! No wince in pain, nothing! He’d let me do any number of vicious things to him and never say anything! I could really hurt him and he wouldn’t care. There is such a thing as too much trust. Moony is a monster controlled by animal impulses. Sirius cannot see why Moony needs to be controlled. Maybe I should slacken the leash and let him find out for himself.  
  
 **17 March 1978**  
We arranged a St. Patrick’s Day prank: Singing Leprechauns and Clover confetti. And now Sirius and I have some telepathic link. That’s what Dumbledore was searching for. Now I feel doubly guilty keeping my training from Sirius. Although, keeping it from him is protecting him at the same time, keeping him from danger. It’s killing me keeping this from him. He’s been teasing me again. I ought to give him a taste of Moony unleashed. That might just teach him a lesson.  
  
 **19 March 1978**  
The full moon draws closer. Poor Sirius, can’t even have a pee without me mauling him. I’m rather enjoying teaching him a lesson. Lily’s taught us how to cast an effective soundproofing charm around the beds in the dorms. I will really teach Sirius a lesson tonight. Oh yes, he will most definitely learn about werewolf stamina firsthand tonight. I think I’ll start by stripping him naked and slowly touching him everywhere. I’ll start by running my fingers through his hair, over his face, down his chest, pausing to tease his nipples, slide lower over his stomach, down lower... can’t finish. Need Sirius NOW.  
  
 **21 March 1978**  
In hospital recovering. Sirius figured out my game yesterday at lunch. He was not happy. And he was right; I didn’t hurt him. But we fucked until we passed out night before last. I stopped counting after the 4th time I took Sirius. He just smelled so good. Soapy, sweaty, musky, Sirius. I just wanted to wrap myself in that smell... and add my own. I could tell he was a little sore yesterday. He did his best to hide it though. He always rose to the occasion night before. And I thought my libido was frightening. Sirius is normal, well as normal as Sirius can be. Maybe his stamina has something to do with the wolf? I don’t know. My muscles are sore and Moony’s sedated. Pleased. Satiated. I have no idea why. And Sirius hasn’t attached himself to my bedside. Something happened last night. I can feel it.  
  
 **24 March 1978**  
Moody in 2 days. Something happened, Moony shagged Padfoot. Poor James had to witness it. I don’t know what to think about it. Sirius seems so blasé over the whole matter. He takes too much in stride. He has no shame. I’m trying to not be put off by it. I have to remain focused for Friday. I cannot afford to be distracted by anything. I still cannot believe Sirius. I bet he’s just putting on a brave face to alleviate my anxiety. He was fucking fucked by a werewolf! What would have happened had I bit him? He has no brains whatsoever!  
  
 **27 March 1978**  
Now Sirius and I aren’t on speaking terms. Why can’t he understand that there are things I can’t tell him? It’s natural to keep secrets; it’s self-preservation in my case. Hogsmeade visit this coming Saturday. After that, it’s Easter holiday. James is going to meet Lily’s family. Speaking of Lily, she’s helping James on the Snape prank. I wish they would just let it go and ignore him. Ignoring him seems to piss him off more than pranking him. Besides, he’s suffered enough from their hands. However, he’s done his fair share of instigating and retaliating. I wish they would all grow up. In other news, my training was interesting. Moody described in detail all the methods of torture the Death Eaters like to use. They don’t adhere to just the Unforgiveables. Moody was teaching me how to make Restorative & Healing Draughts. Maybe it will help improve my Potions grade. Bloody sensitive nose. I think Moody’s teaching me skills they ought to be teaching everyone, not just Aurors. Especially the Healing Draughts and protective charms. The wizarding community is too helpless as it is.  
  
 **30 March 1978**  
The April Fools’ prank is set. Christmas with carols and enchanted mistletoe. Sirius and I still aren’t speaking to each other. A fact that has got on Lily’s nerves: “If I have to listen to James whinge about Sirius’ whinging one more time....” Sirius blew everything completely out of proportion! He even went so far as to accuse me of using him like a common whore! All because I won’t let him have his way. I can’t tell him what I’m doing on Fridays. It’s a secret order. Secret being the operative word. There are too many careers and lives at risk. I’m not about to betray a confidence because my spoiled, whinging boyfriend had a tantrum. I shouldn't speak of him like that; I’m not being fair. I’m certain if our situation were reversed I would be acting similar to Sirius. What bothers me most is that I want to tell him. And I can’t. I promised Dumbledore. I’m not about to go back on my word with him. He has sacrificed much for my benefit; I won’t repay him by destroying his faith in me.


	4. April 1978

**2 April 1978**  
The prank went off without any complications. No one was caught or injured... I can’t even look at Sirius; he looks at me with this hurt/accusatory “Stare of Death.” I have to be firm. Stare him down in return. Prove my dominion. Or ignore him. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to keep things from him, but I have no choice. We decided to put our relationship on hold yesterday. Okay, I decided to put it on hold. If we couldn’t conduct a civilised conversation the past 6 days... They’re planning on pranking Snape in Hogsmeade tomorrow. I’m not going. I’m staying behind to revise for NEWTs. They’re only 7 weeks away. Training was interesting this afternoon. Practiced shield and disarming charms. I never knew how many there were. I also began learning how to weave certain spells into wards. No simple Ward charms for me. It’s amazing what I’m learning! I need to find some way to teach this to my friends without revealing where I learned it.  
  
  
 **4 April 1978**  
Sirius doesn’t seem intent on glaring me to death anymore. In fact, he seems a bit too chipper. I wonder what’s going on. They didn’t go through with the prank yesterday. Something about performing an act of mercy. He and James are quite mental... I have a confession: I miss Sirius. I really do. I miss being close to him. And now he would like a moment of my time as he just had an epiphany...  
  
  
 **6 April 1978**  
All of our dorm mates are leaving for Easter holiday. Sirius and I have apologised. I know he’s waiting for make-up sex. He’ll have to wait one day more. He knows about my training. He knows about the Order, thanks to Malfoy. However, Dumbledore is infuriating. He tells me not to tell anyone THEN he tells Sirius that it’s MY decision whether or not to tell. Dumbledore told me exactly how much he and Moody were risking in training me, stressed the importance of protecting the identities of those in the Order, refused my suggestion of flat-out telling Sirius, James, Peter, and Lily—“Let them decide of their own accord what path they take in this war,” and then told Sirius it was my decision not to tell him what I was doing! I suppose I could have chosen to break Dumbledore’s trust, to put people’s lives in jeopardy, and tell Sirius. Because Dumbledore never actually said the words “don’t tell anyone.” Enough of that. I need to plot ways of tormenting Sirius through tomorrow night. Hmm... Maybe put some wards around my bed tomorrow? Leave a note warning Sirius not to try to molest me? Oh, that’s a keeper. Then I’ll just use our telepathic link to send him very vivid details of what I’m going to do to him the next 4 days. Very good plan indeed.  
  
  
 **9 April 1978**  
Sirius is taking a shower. I already had mine. We missed breakfast again today. That’s two days in a row. We mustn’t miss tomorrow; McGonagall will get suspicious. I still can’t believe we had sex on her desk last month… It has been nice waking up next to a naked Sirius. Very pleasurable indeed. We only get dressed to go to meals. And I did manage to sneak off to the library yesterday for an hour or two. It was the only way either of us would have got any homework done. Sirius is back from his shower, dripping wet wearing only a towel. Arrogant bastard knows me too well.  
  
  
 **10 April 1978**  
Not only embarrassed by Headmaster, but also now includes Deputy Headmistress. We were well on our way to missing breakfast this morning when McGonagall came to our room to rouse us. I did mention our perpetual state of nudity, yes? So when she came in she got to see two very naked young men sleeping entwined with each other. Who was the daft idiot who forgot about drawing the bed hangings? As we were in Sirius’ bed, I’m placing the blame on him. Oh, and his “epiphany” the other day? He agreed with my assessment of his being obsessed (when did I ever say he was obsessed?) because he never thought to ask me if my parents knew. Of course they knew! I’m rather close to them as they were my only company until I came to Hogwarts. And naturally they’d approve anything if it made me happy. And yet, I’m afraid of the happiness that Sirius causes. I don’t know why.  
  
  
 **12 April 1978**  
I’ve figured out the fear; I’m afraid of his exuberance for life. “Fools rush in where Angels fear to tread…” Sirius is the king of all Fools. It was his idea to become animagi, his idea to ring in the New Year on the roof of his flat. We were all very inebriated. It was colder than arse out there, and we were piss drunk. And there he was, standing on the edge of the roof with his arms spread wide, shouting “Happy New Year London!” I wanted to do three things in that moment. The first, drag his idiotic, drunk arse down from the ledge; the second, join him on the ledge; the third, pull him down and snog him senseless. It’s the second one that worries me. Sirius likes to test the limits of everything. If something isn’t challenging, then he’s not interested. He gets bored easily. From boredom he can slip into melancholy. That’s when James acts a fool, he senses when Sirius is about to slip into one of his “moods.” James usually comes up with a prank or a dare or something so Sirius won’t brood. On the other hand, I allow Sirius to go on brooding as long as it doesn’t annoy me. The result is Sirius tries to bring himself up so he won’t bring me down. Or maybe he doesn’t want to deal with the cause of his negative emotions. Great, now I’m psychoanalysing him. Sirius needs to learn how to deal with and accept his less optimistic side. Life is a bed of roses, to be sure, and everyone seems to forget that while they are beautiful, roses do have thorns that make you bleed.  
  
  
 **13 April 1978**  
I fear I may have angered my boyfriend. I couldn’t help it! James is funny. And it is true; Sirius is *mine.* That’s not at all possessive/territorial is it? James charmed all of the backs of Sirius’ pants to read “Property of Remus J. Lupin.” Which got a laugh in our dormitory this morning. Then James put some sort of invisibility charm on Sirius’ school robes at different times in the halls… And I laughed then too. I fear for James, I truly do.  
  
  
 **14 April 1978**  
Sirius has really done it now. He needs to watch his temper. He pranked James during potions lesson today. A tattoo on James’ forehead that read “Vacancy. Space for let. 1 Knut.” Then Sirius hexed his brother, Regulus this evening after supper. Professor Flitwick caught him and assigned him immediate detention. I’m not sure what Regulus said to set Sirius off; I got the story from Peter. I’m certain Sirius will give me every detail and every hidden meaning behind each detail. James is not speaking to Sirius and Sirius is acting like a spoiled brat lately. I don’t know what has got into him.  
  
  
 **16 April 1978**  
Regulus has worked out what I am. Dumbledore has intervened to prevent anything from happening. Really though, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what my disappearances mean. And Sirius glares at me every time I look at the real estate section of the paper. I’m trying to find someplace habitable in my price range before everyone else starts looking. I know he wants me to move in with him, but how on earth do you hide a werewolf in a London flat?  
  
  
 **17 April 1978**  
He just won’t quit! His Uncle Alphard has given him a small cottage in a remote location, surrounded by forest. It would be perfect for us. Too perfect. And he had to bring up the point that I might be forced to move every month by some close-minded renters. I know the bloody risks! I am well aware of the prejudices I face. I don’t need him to remind me I’m not human! I don’t need that at all!  
  
  
 **18 April 1978**  
Morning make-up sex is brilliant. It really is, especially when I’m the one doing the waking. Sirius likes to have a longer lie-in than everyone else. So, once everyone left the room, I locked the door, soundproofed the room, stripped down, and crawled up Sirius’ bed. He nearly knocked me out of the bed; I startled him. It felt so good to have him underneath and around me: moaning, gasping, writhing, sweating, panting, and begging for release. It’s good to be the alpha.  
  
  
 **20 April 1978**  
Recovering in the hospital wing. I have a Prefect’s meeting in two days. Moody is allowing me to bring Sirius to my training. I had told Moody that Sirius wants to be an Auror; Dumbledore must have told Moody how much Sirius knows now. And I’m really sore. I hope there wasn’t another “incident” last night. James and Sirius have forgiven each other about the pranks. My headache is coming back; I better rest.  
  
  
 **24 April 1978**  
Well, Thursday’s prefect meeting with the Head Boy and Head Girl left me with another headache. I do not appreciate being placed in the middle of one of their silly rows then be forced to take sides. I don’t mind being the sympathetic ear, but I will not be drawn into the fray. In other news, Sirius was impressed with my training this afternoon. Moody and I were doing “battle training.” I set up small wards and fire hexes around them; Moody breaks the wards and fires hexes at me. Very exhausting, there is a lot of running involved. I’m just glad Sirius sat still and didn’t interrupt anything with a thousand questions. Moody said he thought my progress was too slow with the wards; he said they were too easy to break. I thought they slowed him quite a bit. Back to basics, I suppose.  
  
  
 **26 April 1978**  
Gryffindor is in the lead for the Quidditch Cup. We play Slytherin for it on May 15th. I just got back two of my applications for a flat: denied. Most wizards don’t like renting to a werewolf; even if the registry inspects their spaces for let, and they get a stipend for having special units for werewolves, whether or not one actually lives there. As long as they accept applications, they get their money from the ministry. I’m ready to take up Lily’s offer to look at muggle flats. They won’t care one way or the other and I can go to my parents’ house for the full moons. I don’t care what Sirius says, I’m not comfortable running around a few trees at his uncle’s cottage. I could get loose and kill, infect, or hurt someone.  
  
  
 **29 April 1978**  
He’s really getting on my last nerve. I asked Lily to get me a copy of a muggle newspaper. I still have an application for a flat in Liverpool. I hope I get that one. James has gone into what Sirius calls “Quidditch Tyrant Mode.” At least Sirius will be too tired to gripe about my “house hunting.” I think I may need to sit Sirius down and explain things to him, slowly. Maybe then it will sink in. “I don’t want to move in with you. I’ve always had people looking out for me which translates into ‘we’re too scared to let you live your own life, so you’ll live it the way we think you should even though it’s not really living.’” Except, my parents have been mildly supportive. My mum keeps sending letters about coming home on the full moons or just staying at home until I get a good-sized nest egg saved up. They also aren’t saying too much against this because they understand the extent of my stubbornness. Sirius does not. Usually he can persuade or charm me into his way without me realising until it’s too late. Not this time. Maybe the idea is too tempting, that’s why I can resist so well. It would be heaven to live in a rustic cottage in a quiet wood with just Sirius and myself. Lazy, sunny Saturday mornings naked in bed. Sex most of the day Sunday… Someone to come home to. Quiet evenings in front of the fire. Stumbling over each other in the mornings, getting ready for work. I’m not ready for that now. My life has never been that perfect. And if something is too good to be true… Why ruin what we already have?


	5. May 1978

**2 May 1978**  
I’ve just had another row with the illustrious Sirius Black. He’s giving the appearance of giving up, but I know he hasn’t. He actually growled at me while I was looking at the paper today. He did say he saw my point of view but ended the argument by stating that his offer will always stand no matter what I do. I called him a stubborn arse; he said he was “ever constant.” His devotion is killing me.  
  
  
 **3 May 1978**  
I can’t think properly when Sirius is around. I should still be mad at him, but that’s now impossible. I awoke this morning to Sirius sitting on the foot of my bed watching me, and writing about it in his journal. This led, as always, to sex. I can’t help myself sometimes. I wouldn’t object to spending all of our time together naked and in some stage of coitus. Except that N.E.W.T.’s are almost upon us and I need to focus on my studying… Really wouldn’t mind if Sirius chose to stay naked all of the time. Then I could stare my fill at that delicious body of his. See? See the lack of focus? Bollocks—off for a cold shower.  
  
  
 **4 May 1978**  
Sirius’ Uncle Alphard has passed on. Sirius learned of this sorrowful news via a howler from his mother. Apparently, Alphard left his estate to the eldest male Black, which would be Sirius as Alphard didn’t disown him. That was the reason for the howler. James put it best I believe: “the old codger is bloody brilliant. Must be where Sirius gets it.” I can tell this is weighing heavily on Sirius even if he acts otherwise. He identified most with Alphard: eccentric, opinionated, stubborn, bachelor, and a deep contempt for most of the family. Sirius’ hero, in other words. Now he’s gone.  
  
  
 **6 May 1978**  
N.E.W.T.- the acronym strikes fear into the hearts of seventh years. There’s just so much to review! Thank Merlin for my training with Moody; it has helped me in ways I’d never imagine. Naturally, D.A.D.A, but Charms, Transfiguration and Potions as well. I still haven’t any idea how I got into the N.E.W.T. level potions class. I also have Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Herbology to prepare for! I think I may go completely mad at some point, just like the Mad Hatter in Alice in Wonderland, or mad as the Marquis de Sade. I’ve certainly been lecherous enough this spring. Good god, a four day long orgy over Easter hols. What was I thinking? I should have been organising my notes and reviewing. I can’t believe how much I’ve forgotten. And H.o.M., I must review for that. Goblin rebellions, ministers of magic, legal changes throughout the years… Everyone needs to get to work. Now. I’ll draw up a study table for us, that way we can all study together. And Sirius won’t be able to interrupt my studying with other matters.  
  
  
 **8 May 1978**  
That’s it! The whole lot of them can PISS OFF! They fucking fell asleep in H.o.M. yesterday, leaving me to take notes for all of them. I completely snapped at Sirius and have not spoken to him today. First of all, he was writing in his journal during class, and then he fell asleep! Just, argh! I’m NOT my friends’ bloody secretary! Do you know how often I wish I could take a nap like everyone else does in that class? And I can’t because we wouldn’t have good notes. I need sleep more than the lot of them… I suppose I ought to let it go; they are acting thoroughly chagrined. I hate feeling like I’m being used. Now Sirius is trying to use our link to get me to talk to him. Lovely. Now I’ll have him whinging in my head all day. I’ll say a few civil words to him so he’ll shut up. Give him a study table while I’m being friendly. He’s infuriating really. I still don’t understand why I put up with him. 50 galleons to the first person who can decipher why.  
  
  
 **10 May 1978**  
I put up with him because he is a sexual beast. Yesterday, I came back from the library around 1 PM and Sirius was sitting at a table in the common room with his books open, like he was trying to show me what a good boy he could be. This meant that I had become too tyrannical with my study tables and my tirade after History of Magic the other day. I join Sirius at the table and he starts an inquisition with the same question: are you sure I don’t take advantage of you? I knew the only way to shut him up was to drag him upstairs to the dorm room and shag him all afternoon. Yesterday was very, very good.  
  
  
 **12 May 1978**  
Interfering women! Lily Evans decided to lock Sirius and myself in the kitchens while she mediated. On the plus side, Sirius and I have reached an agreement in the living arrangements battle. All I had to say to make him concede was “how can I come home if I don’t go away first?” And that made sense to him? It still doesn’t make sense to me. I suppose it pleased him that I thought of him as “home.”  
  
  
 **16 May 1978**  
Gryffindor has won the Quidditch Cup. The full moon is in two nights. And a crowd surrounds Sirius at the moment. I need to find a way to free him so we can do our own celebrating. I think I’ll start by going down on him. There is nothing more exciting than unfastening Sirius’ trousers and watching his hard cock free itself. Sometimes, I like to stroke it a bit, tease him before tasting him. I love the way it smells: musky, sweaty, earthy, heavy. I’ll lick the head first then run my tongue down to the base of his cock, back up to the head before taking him in my mouth… I’m dragging him away now.  
  
  
 **17 May 1978**  
I fear I may be wearing both Sirius and our respective mattresses out. The pull of the moon seems stronger this month. James ordered us to sit on separate sides in all the classrooms today and not sit within touching distance during meals. I can’t help it if Sirius’ arse begs to be touched, fondled, and fucked. We’ll just arrive early to meals, leave early, and have some fun in various locations until lessons begin. We’ll be playing “how quickly can I get him off” all day today. The moon is tomorrow night after all. James couldn’t possibly expect me to waddle around all day with this throbbing monstrosity in my pants. I wouldn’t be so cruel to him. Sirius is finally done with his breakfast. I think a trip to Moaning Myrtle’s is in order. It’s only a corridor away from our first lesson, and we have twenty minutes. I think I’ll let him suck me off first.  
  
  
 **19 May 1978**  
Recovering under the care of Madam Pomfrey. I am utterly exhausted. I really do not like the sex drive of the wolf. It’s not normal. And Sirius is mental for encouraging said drive. N.E.W.T.s are less than a week away. I should be going over Potions while I have this blessed peace and quiet… but my mind is focused on other matters, mainly Sirius. It can’t be healthy to want sex every day. Even when I first started exploring I didn’t crave sex as much as I do now. I feel as if I am trapped in a Dionysian nightmare: excess of every sort, wine, food, and especially sex. Is it normal to get off to giving someone head? Obviously it is a sexual act so naturally it will be arousing; I’m not daft. But it seems as if my lust is insatiable, unnatural even. Add another symptom to the list: werewolf- insatiable appetite for sexual acts, deviant from the norm. I just want some semblance of normalcy, whatever that may be. And Sirius delights in any deviant behaviour. He encourages it and I am helpless to stop it… It’s almost suppertime; he’ll be down soon to walk with me to Gryffindor tower. I can’t deal with this right now; I have to focus on N.E.W.T.s.  
  
  
 **23 May 1978**  
N.E.W.T.s begin tomorrow. We’re taking a break from studying. Peter’s a nervous wreck and even James and Sirius seem tense. They finally understand the importance of studying. Took them seven years to reach that point… Better late than never, I suppose. I’m surprised I’m even allowed to take them. Well, there are no laws prohibiting my kind from attending Hogwarts and the like. The Ministry cannot prevent me from taking the exams even if they won’t employ me afterwards. I received another rejection letter for a wizarding flat. My best bet now would be London, but I still have an application in for one in Liverpool. A wizard flat in the hometown of the Beatles. Mum would be pleased. So would Sirius; he’s confiscated enough of my records now. I’ve had to lock up my Stones LPs to keep his sticky fingers off them. Granted, I still haven’t returned half of his Bowie records I’ve borrowed… I’ve sussed him out! He doesn’t want me to live with him for sexual reasons. No, he wants my record collection. Okay, all of this studying has made me mental, completely certifiable. And I must never reveal I made that comment or I really will be committed!  
  
  
 **28 May 1978**  
The N.E.W.T.s are OVER. They really are “nastily exhausting.” Like the O.W.L.s they are comprised of written and practical exams. I quite enjoy the practical exams; I think you learn and retain more skills by doing them. If I am ever granted the opportunity to teach, I will have practical exams. Some written quizzes, of course, to make certain that the students have done their assigned reading, and a practical final exam to test how well they can apply what they have learned. You can’t study only theory; you need to know how to use magic especially in defensive situations. Sirius has rubbed off on me. There is no possibility of me ever being allowed to teach. I am a werewolf, a threat to society. Lock up your children! Not without cause, though. I don’t have control in my transformed state. At least when I’m human I don’t have the bloodlust; unless that’s just sublimated into my sex drive. That can’t be healthy. I suppose this means that I’ll never be “normal.” I should accept that I’ll always be fucked up.  
  
  
  
 **30 May 1978**  
My friends have such “joie de vivre.” Yesterday was unusually hot so we went to our spot at the lake. As it was Saturday none of us were in our school robes. We opted for T-shirts and denims. I laid in the shade of the trees, Peter waded in to his ankles, and James and Sirius dared each other to climb the trees. I dozed off for a bit, but woke when Peter yelled “He goes starkers all the time James! Make him do it fully clothed!” That woke me up just in time to witness Sirius in a white t-shirt and tight jeans jump off of a branch into the lake. It would have been easier for me if he had been starkers. As it was… Well, white t-shirts have the amazing ability to turn transparent when wet in addition to the ability to cling to a body like second skin. So, as the water was still cold… when Sirius stood up, water to his waist, nice view of his chest and judging by his nipples the water was extremely cold. Add to that view, water dripping off his silky, black hair, over his dark eyelashes, and off his red, pouty lips… It did not take me long to become harder then the rock of Gibraltar, which is quite uncomfortable not to mention embarrassing while one is wearing tight jeans themselves. Anyway, Sirius gets out of the lake; wet denim clinging everywhere, meets my eyes, licks some water off his lips (I swore I would cream in my jeans right then), saunters over to where I am sitting on the ground, and proceeds to shake himself off all over me. That took care of the hard-on a little bit. I glared at him, but he just smiled and said: “What? You looked hot and sweaty so I thought I would offer you some relief.” That got Peter sputtering, luckily James was too far away to have heard. I stood up, glared at Sirius and told him that thanks to his “thoughtfulness” I now had to go change clothes. I stormed up to the castle knowing he would follow me. I got all the way to the dormitory, left the door open and not two seconds after I entered the room, Sirius came in behind me short of breath and started to apologise. I charmed the door shut and locked it. And the point of this story is to remind me that wet denim is impossible to remove when one’s boyfriend is randy and not wearing any pants underneath. I thought I would die before I got those bloody jeans off of Sirius. However the result was well worth the effort, very well worth it.


	6. June 1978

**3 June 1978**  
Against my will, I am going to the cottage Monday with Sirius and James. Peter cannot join us. Supposedly I am going with to assist in cleaning. I know Sirius; he wants me to go so that I’ll fall in love with the place. Then I can fall at his knees and declare “Yes, my darling, there is nothing I would love more than living with you in this heaven on earth!” *swoons* the thought makes me sick. On a good note, I have been spending more time with Peter and Lily. I feel like I’ve been neglecting my friends the past three or four months. Peter is such a breath of fresh air. He’ll listen to what I need to say and only interject when he feels I want his opinion. He doesn’t take sides like James can and he doesn’t pout and ignore what I’ve said like Sirius does. Peter lets me get so much off of my chest and then gives a thoughtful reply. I know he feels slighted that he can’t go with to the cottage. I’d gladly change places with him, except… I am a bit curious as to what this cottage looks like.  
  
 **5 June 1978**  
I got so caught up with a naked Sirius in my bed that I almost forgot about my meeting with Moody and Dumbledore this morning. I’m certain there will be repercussions soon. Anyway, Moody has set up a training schedule for me for the summer. Dumbledore suggested a few muggle establishment where I could get work without too many questions, possibly tending bar. His understanding is that that environment has very flexible hours with very open-minded people. So, I’ll be able to schedule time off around the full moons and no one would become suspicious. I’m not sure if I want to work in a pub; a disco or club would be fun though. I could dress like David Bowie every night. I know Sirius would love that… I don’t want to go to the cottage. I don’t want Sirius to get enough NEWTs to go into Auror training. He’s going to get himself killed as it is. He doesn’t need a career that would increase his chances. He only thinks of himself. If he ever put someone else’s needs before his own, I would die of shock. He is just a spoiled brat… That’s not true. He acts like a child, sulking when he doesn’t get his way. I am quite used to not getting my way in life and I deal with it. I don’t sulk; I accept what is and move on. Some things you are powerless to change and no amount of sulking, pouting, or fighting will make any difference. It is wonderfully naïve to believe anything is possible, but I live on Earth. Naivety is fed to the wolves, literally. It would be dangerous for me to forget that fact. As much as I would like the “happily ever after” life, real life does not work that way. And Sirius makes me forget tha—  
  
 **6 June 1978**  
Sirius attacked me last night. It serves me right for getting him all worked “up” in the morning and abandoning him all day. I didn’t get the flat in Liverpool. Lily and I are looking over her muggle paper for flats in London. Sirius can bugger off if he starts his crap again. I’m going to the bloody cottage. He should be happy with that and not push me any further. I think I’d be happy living in the Soho area in London. Looks like my sort of environment, at least for city living.  
  
 **8 June 1978**  
Cleaned the cottage today. No magical pest to get rid of. Some dusting, removing furniture covers, cleaning out chimneys, making sure the plumbing worked. It’s gorgeous! Too perfect, even. Small enough to be cosy, yet large enough so you’re not on top of each other. The Library! It is a den, but 3 of its walls are lined ceiling to floor with bookshelves full of Shakespeare, Goethe, Poe, Swift, Pope, Aristotle, Woolfe, Plato, Sophocles, Virgil, Moliere, Rimbaud, Faulkner, Sartre, Freud, Camus… the list goes on! The furniture is tasteful, comfortable, and well aged. The kitchen is small but practically designed. And there are trees everywhere! There’s a small clearing around the cottage (a perfectly sized yard), a number of flowerbeds, and room for a vegetable garden. Everything else is forest. It is quiet, peaceful, secluded. Exactly the sort of place I would buy if I had the money to spend. And I hate Sirius. I hate him for insisting I come to “help.” He knows me so well. He knows my weaknesses and he exploits them. That cottage is idyllic, perfect. Too perfect. In fact, it is so perfect that I believe I shall be able to resist it. Except, I can’t get this image out of my mind: Sirius padding around the kitchen, brewing tea in the morning, wearing pyjama bottoms and slippers with his robe open. I walk sleepily into the kitchen to get some tea… I won’t continue; I’ll lose my resolve.  
  
 **9 June 1978**  
Sirius doesn’t understand anything at all. He caught me sulking last evening while I was writing in my journal. He thought my mood had to do with everyone looking for employment. He thought I sulked because I am qualified for good jobs in the wizarding world but I couldn’t get them due to my “condition.” Yes, the thought does aggravate me, but I can still find gainful employment elsewhere. The cottage and the fact that Sirius plays me like a harp, that’s what I was sulking about. And I keep going back to that scene in my mind… Parents will be arriving in a few days for our graduation, a gathering of seventh years in Hogsmeade to celebrate the end of our education. The Evanses, including Petunia, are venturing north for the occasion.  
  
 **14 June 1978**  
My parents have just left. They helped me move my belongings into my meagre flat. One bedroom, one bath, one kitchen/living room, Soho area in London, not too much a month. I’m going tomorrow to gather applications for a few bartending positions. Moody trained me this past Wednesday and Thursday; he took me to the Hog’s Head to learn a few things. This place does look like a “first flat.” It is humble, but I couldn’t be more proud. I am going to Sirius’ cottage for the full moon. I must be sure to bring some work along so I don’t waste time shagging Sirius. There are so many reports to go through, maps to draw, notes to decipher…  
  
 **15 June 1978**  
I am at the cottage. He thinks I am asleep. I did fill out ten applications today before gathering a few things and apparating here. Sirius cooked supper: spaghetti with bread and wine. He didn’t burn anything. I’ll admit to being somewhat impressed. Tomorrow night is the full moon; I’m attempting to abstain from sex. It wasn’t too difficult tonight, as Sirius seemed to behave himself. I worry about tomorrow though. There won’t be anyone to interrupt us until 7pm. I’ll just have to bury my nose in paperwork rather than the base of Sirius’ cock. Oh bloody hell! I’m going to sleep now before I go looking, and find, a midnight snack.  
  
 **16 June 1978**  
Just finished lunch. Sirius tested and strengthened wards while I worked on maps this morning. He is beginning to get pouty. I know he’ll try something in a little while; the boy is sex-crazed. Not that I would mind bending him over the desk and fucking him, it’s just I have these parchments to look over. Dumbledore has given me until the 19th to turn them in, but I want to finish them before they’re due. That and I don’t want to let Sirius use me again. Not that he does, he just exploits my weaknesses when it suits him. He’s randy; I’m not in the mood. It’s the full so all he has to do is act slightly provocative and Moony will pounce on his arse. Better return to Diggle’s notes.  
  
 **2:00 pm**  
Sirius is pacing the cottage and using our telepathy to try to sway me to his side. Diggle’s notes are so obvious; he doesn’t code them or anything. And he sends them by the hired owl. No sense what so ever. Crap, Sirius’ footsteps are getting closer. Now what is he up to?  
  
 **3:10 pm**  
FUCKING BLOODY WANKER! Thank Merlin for my self-control. Do you know what he did? He came into the study innocently, yeah right, asking if I wanted his help with anything. Naturally I said yes as I had been feeling guilty about neglecting him. And my thanks is a neglected bulge in my trousers that I can’t take care of because the insatiable PILLOCK beat me to the shower!! Of course, nothing is stopping me from joining him in the shower and teaching him a lesson. I love the way water runs over his body, over every crevice, every muscle… Need to focus. Moonrise is in four and a half hours now. I must get more of these note copied in a coherent report. My urges can wait.  
  
 **17 June 1978**  
I feel like utter crap. And satiated. I don’t need to remember what happened last night to know what happened. Except, I don’t think Moony was the one doing the buggering. I’m going to kill Sirius when I get my strength back. Once again he takes advantage of my weakened mental state. Peter’s right, Sirius is too much like a spoiled prince. He always has to get his way. And if people don’t concede to his request, he finds a way to get what he wants when they are at their weakest. This is not just Peter being jealous; this is truth. Sirius wants me to live with him as a couple. Yet did he even consult me when he and James got the brilliant idea to become Aurors? No, he did not. He wants us to be as close to married as is possible yet he excludes me from important decisions like taking an occupation with a high death rate! Why? Because he wants to play hero and he’ll be damned if anyone talks him out of it! This is all just a reaction to the House of Black. He needs to grow up and realise that by acting this way they still have power over his life—the one thing he swore the never would have again. Good, I hear him coming to check on me now. I’m going to give him a piece of my mind!  
  
 **18 June 1978**  
Sirius will be on his way over for supper in an hour. We had a row, and then I backed down. He’s staying the weekend. He leaves for training next Friday, the 25th. I have decided our relationship is over. There is no communication at all. He can’t or won’t see my point of view. Three days of farewell fucking; of course, he’ll believe that it’s make-up sex… It’s better for him this way. Maybe Auror training will make him grow up and we needn’t break up. And if it doesn’t, I’ll find a way to break it to him gently and concisely. I’ll make up my mind when he comes back from training.  
  
 **22 June 1978**  
I have an interview tomorrow at the Glitter Collar. I’m fairly certain I’ll get this job. In other news, my weekend consisted of sex, sex, and more sex. Sirius really is an excellent lover; he’s just not a good boyfriend, not for me anyway. We don’t really have that much in common, now that I think of it. I like to be quiet and read. He’s loud and obnoxious. He likes to be the centre of attention. I like to be left alone. And this is enough reflecting.  
  
 **23 June 1978**  
I have accepted a bartending job at the Glitter Collar; I start tomorrow. I have also made a new acquaintance, Daniel. He’s a student at the Guildhall School. We met at the neighbourhood pub at supper tonight; apparently he lives just three blocks from my flat. We had a two-hour discussion comparing Marx’s Communist Manifesto to Plato’s Republic. I haven’t had such a good discussion in ages. The last one happened over Christmas holidays with my father. We were discussing the beat writers and Gertrude Stein’s “boys.” Anyway, Daniel and I exchanged telephone numbers with a promise to meet for tea and more debates. Finally I have met someone who stimulates my intellect.  
  
 **27 June 1978**  
I am enjoying my job immensely. The Collar is a very open and fun-loving atmosphere. Though, I’m still not certain how to handle our more flirtatious customers. I feel like I’m living two lives: by day, a studious, reserved bibliophile, by night a… well, the opposite of a studious, reserved bibliophile. Moody came by at 6:30 am yesterday; I got in from work at 4. Barely two hours of sleep then he wakes me up to practice hexes until lunchtime. I slept in past noon today. I have never, except for moon recovery, slept past eleven on a Sunday! So, I have been feeling guilty. The Collar is closed on Sunday and Monday so no work for two days. I think I’ll phone Daniel and see if he wants to meet up tomorrow. I wonder if he is gay as well…  
  
 **29 June 1978**  
Tea with Daniel was rather invigorating. We talked about some of our favourite playwrights. I have an affinity for Shakespeare, which he finds odd from an intellectual standpoint. So we argued about the social critique Shakespeare wove into the subtext of his plays. As well as discussing the homo-eroticism inherent in the traditional productions; young men playing the female roles, etc. There’s a production of Othello in the West End we’re going to see this Friday. A friend of Daniel’s is in the production. In other news I received a letter from Sirius. It is quite explicit. I was right; Sirius is only interested in sex. He is so focused on the fleeting pleasures of the flesh that he has forgotten the lasting pleasure of companionship. I need to end it before it gets worse.  
  
  
 _Remus,_  
  
I miss your hands. I miss your long, artistic fingers. How they hold your quill so delicately, yet firmly as you write. How they slide through your hair as you prepare to answer another of my endless questions. How my hair flows like water through your fingers. How your fingers twine and tighten in my hair as you hold my head still to kiss me. How they slowly caress the side of my face, my neck, my chest. Soft, light, ticklish touches that leave my skin tingling. How they circle around my nipples, teasing, flicking, pinching, making them erect. How your hands trail down my stomach, passing over my reddened, throbbing, leaking cock to touch, stroke my feet, legs, thighs. Your hands feel so good on my body, leaving a blazing trail of heat and desire. I beg for your hands to touch me there, to alleviate the tension. You oblige; taking my balls in one hand, you rub your thumb over my sac. With your other hand, you slip it down my cleft, stroking my opening. I relax; you push one finger past the muscled ring, probing further inside until you find that nub and stroke it, watching with feral eyes as I buck on your hand. You add a second finger twisting them inside me; my cock jumps with every stroke over that spot inside. You add a third finger now; you’re fucking me with your hands. And I’m whining, moaning, pleading with you to fuck me for real. Instead, you add a fourth finger and move your other hand. You stop fingering my sac and start teasing my leaking cock. Slowly, you take one finger and circle it around the head, coating it with my pre-come. Then you stop, take your finger to your mouth and lick it clean. You return your hand to my cock and start stroking me; pumping me. You rub your thumb over the head with each upward stroke; my hips continue to buck on your other hand. You’re fucking me with your hands and I’m loving it. I’m so close, so close; finally I reach that sweet blinding white light of orgasm. I come over your hand; you’re still stroking me as I calm down. You pull your hand out and I feel empty without it. I watch with lidded eyes as you lick your other hand clean of my come. What I love even more than your hands on my body, is watching your hands pleasure yourself. Watching you stroke your cock as I whisper naughty thoughts to you. Knowing that you’re probably doing that right now, did you come yet? I have.  



	7. July 1978

**2 July 1978**  
Well, I replied to Sirius’ letter. I couldn’t think of anything to say; "I met a drama student who is well-read, a lot like me, and I’d shag him if I knew he wanted to…" So, I told him I was settled in, had found a job, and had visited the neighbourhood pub. How do you reply to a letter describing how he likes to be hand-fucked by you? I’m not writing in kind; I know those letters are read before they get to them. I also wrote James. I let him know a bit more. I didn’t mention Daniel though.  
  
  
 **3 July 1978**  
Othello was superb, a really good production. Hamlet still remains my favourite tragedy though. Daniel’s friend, Emma, played Desdemona. This same friend took us to a pub to get us pissed. Then, in her very inebriated state asks Daniel if I’m his new "friend" and she winks conspiratorially. That answered my question about Daniel’s sexual preference. It seems too soon to make that jump. I haven’t really broken it off with Sirius yet. Even if I did snog Daniel at some point during the cab ride home… I’m just so confused right now.  
  
  
 **4 July 1978**  
Work continues to amuse me. I’ve got quite good at making cocktails. I have decided that politely rebuking flirtatious patrons only encourages them to try harder. I have discovered that by flirting they ease off a bit and I get much better tips. I have yet to receive a second letter from Sirius. I wonder if my short note put him off… I really had no idea what I wanted to say. I was afraid of revealing too much too soon. I’m not cheating on him; we’ve broken up. He just doesn’t know that yet.  
  
  
 **5 July 1978**  
I just sent Daniel home. He took me out for dinner and then we walked some of the wine off. I went on a real date. Sneaking off to a room in Hogwarts for sex does not count as a romantic date. And why do I care? I’m turning into a complete poufster. Perhaps I was mistaken, maybe I do want to be wined and dined. Maybe it was just the thought of Sirius wining and dining me that was so ridiculous. I’ve known him for seven years; going through the awkwardness of dating was just preposterous. He did make me that dinner before June’s full moon. And why am I defending him to myself?  
  
  
 **7 July 1978**  
I received a letter from Sirius in the post today. Lovely, Sirius, you’re so thoughtful and romantic. I knew I should have waited to send mine. I wrote him about work and such. A little more about my "training" which has turned into paperwork now. I’m going over maps of D.E. activity to see if there is a pattern. Lots of fun to be had. All he misses is the sex. We were friends first; doesn’t he miss any of that? I’m not going to read any more letters he sends me. And if Daniel wants to do more than snog, we’ll do it. At least he’s interested in my intellect instead of my cock.  
  
  
 **9 July 1978**  
Had a lunch "quickie;" Daniel gives excellent head. It did feel a bit odd though, but that’s to be expected. He will be going to France for two weeks; he leaves on the 12th. I don’t have to cover for the full moon this time. I have to work through the 15th to have off that Friday and Saturday. Luckily the club is closed on Sundays. However, I will be working this Sunday, cleaning up from Saturday night and possibly doing some grocery shopping.  
  
  
 **12 July 1978**  
I gave Daniel a send-off last night. It wasn’t the best fuck I’ve had, but Daniel seemed to enjoy himself. He is much more suited to me. I need to write Sirius and tell him it’s over. I’ve been postponing it, but now it can’t wait. It wouldn’t be fair to Daniel. And Moody is here to collect some paperwork and probably dump some more on me. Great. I get in around four in the morning and shower and go to bed. I start work at seven or eight at night. When the hell am I supposed to get sleep or have a personal life?  
  
  
 **14 July 1978**  
Sent Sirius the break-up letter. I have received a letter from him. I have not read it, nor will I. I can surmise what he has written about: SEX. I know it seems cruel to break up with him via letter while he’s training to get himself killed, but it’s cruel to me to continue to live a lie. It hurts to think of it as a lie; we just want different things out of a relationship. I want a companion to converse with and share experiences; he wants sex. Peter agrees with me. Sirius is a physical person; I am an intellectual/emotion person. The two types do not fare well together. They are in a constant state of not understanding each other. Still, fucking Sirius was much, much better than fucking Daniel. Oh great, here I go again. No more entries until after the full moon.  
  
  
 **17 July 1978**  
It’s odd to be in my bedroom at home and yet it’s not really my bedroom. I meant at my parents’ house. I suppose it will always remain home though. I am never taking my friends for granted again. It has been so long since I had to endure a moon alone and restrained… I feel worse than utter shite. Every muscle is beyond sore, I’ve had random cramps all day, and my head would feel so much better if it would just split open and let the pressure out. My mum is drawing me a bath at the moment. I hope I can walk down the hall without her help. What I wouldn’t give for one of Sirius’ massages right now. She’s calling; I better get in there before she tries to carry me, ha ha ha.  
  
  
 **19 July 1978**  
I did not mean that I missed Sirius; I only wanted my muscles to not be sore. I don’t miss him and I don’t need his "massages." I was weak Saturday. It’s Monday and I am going to work tomorrow night. Right now I’m taking a break from research on a few artefacts in the Dept. of Mysteries. I’m back to being a bookworm. There are far worse things I could be doing. Seven days until Daniel’s return. He’s been sending postcards every day. Today he’s supposed to be touring the Louvre. I wish I were there with him. Well, we can’t always have what we want. I am feeling much, much better than I was on Saturday. Oh god, August’s moon! I hope ending my relationship with Sirius won’t cause problems for it. Fuck, why didn’t I think of that before? I know how juvenile Sirius can be. On the other hand, I don’t think he’d be that low. No, not even Sirius would be so selfish as to make me go through that amount of pain. Even if I deserve it… I mustn’t think like that. I did the right thing. I know I did.  
  
  
 **20 July 1978**  
Nothing much going on. I got a letter from James, nothing from Sirius. James informed me that Sirius seemed quite taken aback by my letter. Also, James is thinking about proposing to Lily but I am strictly forbidden from telling her anything. What else? Oh yes, apparently I am a great git but he’s sure I have my reasons and my reasons had better not be that I’m banging another bloke, even if I am. I must draft a letter explaining… I shouldn’t though; I don’t owe James an explanation. Sirius can just read him my letter; my reasons are quite clear and concise. Daniel will be back in six days. Can’t wait to have another go at him; I’m sure this time will be better.  
  
  
 **21 July 1978**  
Lily and her friend Amanda Bones came into the Collar last night. They looked like they had a fantastic time. Mandy tried to flirt with me for a bit, but we did go on a few dates back in fourth year. She could be a hellcat at times. She really gave Sirius and James a run for their money. Lily is hiding her anxiety well. I know she’s unhappy with James’ decision to become an Auror, but at least he asked for her opinion on the matter. She said that they had quite a few long talks before he sent off his application. Sirius and I had none. He just told me he got an application and would be sending it in. Never asked what I thought or how I felt about it. I’m starting to sound like broken record. Sirius and I are over; there is no need to dredge up past hurts.  
  
  
 **23 July 1978**  
Daniel is due in three days. Lily has started a countdown for it. I had supper last night at the Evans’s. Mr. Evans has quite the record collection; full of artists I haven’t heard of: Count Basie, Benny Goodman, Glen Miller, Cole Porter… I think I need to pick up some of their records next time I’m in a shop. Their music is simultaneously invigorating and soothing. Quite different from the Sex Pistols or The Clash. I believe I rather enjoy swing music. I am getting in touch with my inner little old man; all I need is a cardigan, perhaps not. I have discovered another facet to my personality. I love when that happens; well, only if it is a pleasant discovery. The discovery that on full moon days if Sirius so much as innocently brushed against me, perhaps he was jostled in the halls… anyway, it would make me want to rip his clothes off, push him against a wall, and fuck him until I passed out. That was not a particularly pleasant discovery. In theory it was pleasurable, but not pleasant to think that I would want to do that to anyone. It is just another reminder of the monster that lies within.  
  
  
 **25 July 1978**  
Daniel surprised me last night by popping in on me at work. He wasn’t due back for two days. Sirius would have stayed an extra week. Who am I kidding? Sirius would have insisted I tag along which would have led to my unemployment. Thankfully, I am with someone with much more sense, and who won’t force me to lose my sense. BLISS. So, why am I fidgeting? Why do I keep writing about Sirius when I am with Daniel? Perhaps I don’t want to know the answer to that question. Anyway, Daniel stopped by at the end of my shift last night. We went back to his place and I fucked him. It was better than the last time, but something still seems to missing. We’re not having the mind-blowing sex I thought we would be. If we’re compatible on all of these levels, why hasn’t the sex started to improve? What is missing?  
  
  
 **27 July 1978**  
James has written to me again. No letter from Sirius. James wrote me that Sirius would be staying two weeks longer for specialised training. How To Resist Torture in Case of Capture, How To Brew Antidotes to Poisons; things like that. It’s stuff James will pick up during his "field time" working in the Auror department. Sirius will go into the department with a higher ranking than James. What this means is that only Prongs and Wormtail will be present for August’s moon. Sirius told James to use the cottage. So, he’s not a complete brat. Although, what did I expect? Did I even want a broken-hearted, miserable Sirius there for a full moon? Moony is dangerous; Prongs, Wormtail and Padfoot need to have their wits about them at all times… And I’ll have to come up with some excuse for Daniel. When did life get even more complicated?  
  
  
 **31 July 1978**  
I have to give Daniel credit for his inventiveness; his idea certainly spiced up the sex last night. I hadn’t had an orgasm that intense since S… yes. Well, his idea was a foray into some sub/dom play. I was a bit put-off at first, but I summoned that Gryffindor spirit of adventure and plunged in. It was mild compared to what I’ve heard of that scene. Daniel called me "sir;" I refused the master/slave connotations. Obviously I was the dom, Daniel the sub. The rush of having that much control over another’s pleasure and my own… Anyway, it certainly was different. I wouldn’t want to do that every time we have sex; it can’t lead to a healthy relationship. Maybe once or twice a week would be acceptable. Daniel believes it is a good way to work out the frustrations that an out of control world causes. I am inclined to agree with him. I feel much more upbeat today than I have in a long time. Maybe three or four times a week would be a good idea. He mentioned adding some bondage next time, but I’m not sure how I feel about that. He wants me to tie his hands to the headboard and use a cock ring on him as well. The idea sounds rather arousing. I could take my time learning his body… I might want to secure his legs as well. He would be at my mercy. I could do whatever I want with his body. I think I’m beginning to enjoy this bondage idea, very much so.


	8. August 1978

  
Author's notes: **Remus has made a mistake, but can he make it right? And is it too late?**  


* * *

**2 August 1978**  
Spent the day reassuring Lily that James would be pushing parchment a long time before he would be allowed on active duty. I haven’t told her the details of my sex life, only that it has improved greatly. I bought a pair of leather trousers today; they’re wine coloured. A bit tight in the seat, but they look good on me. A fact which surprised me. Daniel and I will be trying the bondage idea on Thursday. I’m looking forward to it.  
  
  
 **4 August 1978**  
I went to the cottage yesterday to check on the wards. I really hadn’t prepared myself… The entire place smelled like Sirius, even if he hasn’t been there for over a month. The nostalgia was overwhelming. I had to sit down for an hour or two to calm my mind. Then I went outside and checked the wards. I added some new ones. Perhaps I should have brought Peter along; maybe it wouldn’t have hit me so hard. No, he would have been an intrusion; I wouldn’t have been able to collect myself and remain calm. I just let the last seven years wash over me for those two hours, everything, the good, the bad, and the orgasmic. Sirius could play me like a harp and he was a very gifted musician; just don’t encourage his singing. I miss him; I miss his brightness. He aggravated me to no end, but he is so full of that contagious spirit of life.  
  
  
 **6 August 1978**  
Well, I tied Daniel to the headboard last night/early this morning. The sex was very, very good. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard before. He was stretched out on the bed, naked, mine for the taking. And how I took him. His muscles twitched under my touch, my tongue, my teeth. The delicious moans he made. And he couldn’t do anything to stop me or to hurry me. I made certain that there wasn’t a place on his body I didn’t taste or nip. Then I put the cock ring on him. Proceeded to inhale his scent before giving his balls a thorough bath. After that I started to explore his opening, tasted good. Spent some time stretching him. He almost cried with how long I was taking. When I knew he couldn’t stand anymore, I slammed into him, harder and harder with each thrust until I came violently. The cock ring worked rather well; Daniel was still painfully erect. So I sucked him off; it didn’t take long for him to come, screaming as he did. I have to be at work in an hour. Wish I could have Daniel chained to my bed every day; I’d really enjoy fucking him that way.  
  
  
 **12 August 1978**  
I haven’t written in a while. Much has happened in the past six days. I broke it off with Daniel; things became too strange. The rougher I was, the more he enjoyed sex. It led me to a place of darkness I’d rather not go. Oh sweet Merlin! I know why I enjoyed it as long as I did; I was punishing him and myself. Sex for sex’s sake; there was no love between us. We were two randy, young men, intellectually compatible and relatively attractive, who used each other to get off. I used another person to satisfy my base instincts. I thought I was a better person than that. I’m not… Oh, god, I broke up with Sirius, my friend for seven years, with a short note that called him a needy child. I’m only eighteen myself, that’s hardly the life experience of a wizened sage. We did need time apart, free from each other, but… I should have expressed myself better. But those letters he sent me were nothing but sex. I need more than that. Sirius never has trouble opening his mouth at any other time; if he feels more he should express those feelings, not write about me wanking him off. I just don’t know anymore; I’m so confused. James is coming home soon. I hope I’ll be able to talk with him before the full moon on Sunday. Moody noticed a change in my behaviour as well; thankfully, he didn’t pry. He had me go through the Auror’s obstacle course at 3 am . He looked angry when I finished and I asked if anything was wrong. He replied "just the idiots in charge of this circus." I suppose that translates into "Lupin, you did a bang-up job and you’d make a damn good Auror." James will be home soon, I think. He doesn’t seem angry with me in his letters. Lily even let me read some of her letters from him to prove that point. Need to get myself to work now.  
  
  
 **13 August 1978 (4 a.m.)**  
I have completely lost my mind. James has been back for four days now. He and Lily came to the collar tonight. I can’t really talk at work, so I’m meeting James for supper around 7. He wanted to meet the bloke I’m banging. I informed him that that relationship had ended. James wants to know more. I’m not sure he could handle that knowledge. Lily barely could. That’s how I knew it had to end- the look in Lily’s eyes when I told her the turn my sex life had taken. She knew it wasn’t who I am. Well, it is who I am, but she and I both knew it wasn’t good for me. Here I accuse Sirius of only wanting sex and I use someone too.  
  
  
 **9:00 p.m.**  
I need to be at work in half an hour. Supper with James was pleasant. He kept his mouth shut when I inadvertently revealed why I broke up with Daniel. I told James that I didn’t love Daniel; it was more of an infatuation that quickly lost its allure. His reply: "well, that happens sometimes, mate." I thought he might have picked up on the first part of my statement, but he said nothing. I think James Potter may have finally matured! It’s the end of the world!  
  
  
 **14 August 1978**  
I have not heard from Daniel. I don’t know why I thought I would. Perhaps the ease with which we ended things doesn’t seem right; it was too simple and cordial. That just proves there was no passion involved in our affair. I don’t know what to think anymore. Maybe I should stop analysing and just record the boring facts of the day’s events. Trained with Moody before lunch. I had to brew a bone-mending potion. Then we reviewed a list of curses I knew and ones I needed to improve. He left, then I went to Dumbledore’s cabin to go over some maps and analyse data. Lily joined me there. Her help was a nice change. Then I came home, showered, ate, and am in the process of getting ready for work. Nights before the full are always difficult. There are so many phermerones in the air at that place… Just have to come home and wank off for an hour or so. Bloody werewolf sex drive. Sirius would disagree… stop mentioning him. It’s over. And I’m the one who ended it.  
  
  
 **17 August 1978**  
James says that there were no problems with the full moon Sunday night. As I wasn’t too bad off yesterday, I have to agree with him. I have work tonight. Finished the reports today, so no Order work for some time. Sirius comes home on the twenty-first. I don’t know what I should do. He hasn’t written me at all; I thought there would have been an indignant, rage-filled diatribe owled my way by now. It’s not like Sirius to take anything lying down, especially something like this. Not that I want him to throw one of his tantrums, even if he looks so bloody sexy when he gets all worked up… I need to stop torturing myself; go out and meet new people. Go to a punk show at a dingy club. I’m just lonely and miss one of my friends, nothing more.  
  
  
 **18 August 1978**  
Who am I fucking kidding? I miss Sirius. I’m a right utter idiot. He bloody risked Azkaban and his own life to master the animagus transformation for me. For me. And how do I show my gratitude? By throwing his friendship away. By using him because I was randy and he was willing. How willing he was! My only regret was not having the courage to jump him when he was in the Quidditch changing rooms after a game or a practice. His skin would be flushed from the exercise, dripping with sweat. He’d go in for a shower, only a towel around his waist. But knowing him, he wouldn’t have bothered with a towel. Exhibitionist. I’d watch him as he walked into the shower, the muscles on his back rippling with each step; his arse would do the same. I’d wait a moment before following him. And I think this might be the three bottles of rum talking, but before he turned the tap on, I’d lick off the sweat from his body, every single bead of it… Lost my train of thought there. Sweat. I’d make him sweat. And moan. Maybe beg, but not for long. I’d suck him down like mother’s milk. Then I’d push his back to the wall, the shower spraying both of us. And I’d slide so slowly into him, agonisingly slow. He’d be panting, whining, and pleading… Lost my thought again. Why did I drink three bottles of rum? Need to pee.  
  
  
 **19 August 1978**  
I actually had a hangover when I woke up this morning. It went away in half an hour, but still. Apparently I can get sloshed on 3 bottles of rum when they are drunk in quick succession. I wonder what I wrote in my inebriated state… Oh my God. I am NEVER drinking rum again. NEVER.  
  
  
 **20 August 1978**  
My flat is overrun with new paperwork from the Order. Dumbledore had some "unexpected" Ministry guests pop in. My flat is now the safe-haven for all of these scrolls. I’m trying not to think about Sirius’ homecoming tomorrow and failing miserably. Back to the paperwork.  
  
  
 **21 August 1978**  
Buried under maps, Sirius comes home today. I don’t know what to do. Should I write to him, or wait for him to write to me? I need Lily’s help on this one.  
  
  
 **23 August 1978**  
Did not make great tips last night as I spent it harassing Lily. She has the patience of a saint, that girl. She listened to me chasing my tail about Sirius. Then she said to let nature take its course. The problem is that I don’t know which course I want nature to take. Maybe I need to isolate myself for a bit. At least until my mind becomes uncluttered. I’ll finish these maps today and tell Albus I need a break.  
  
  
 **25 August 1978**  
Took a rather disappointing day trip to Paris yesterday. The people are rude, the streets are dirty, and the Louvre and Opera House were the highlights of an otherwise aggravating day. The muggle drivers are insane! Perhaps I didn’t enjoy Paris as much because I went alone and in a bitter mood. Have not heard from, nor have I run into Sirius, yet. I know it’s inevitable; I will have to face what I have done. Work tonight, something to keep my mind off of matters. Maybe I should meet James for lunch soon. Just so I know what is going on.  
  
  
 **27 August 1978**  
I had lunch with James today. Sirius has bought himself a motorbike AND intends on enchanting it to fly. He’ll end up in front of the Wizengamot if he’s not careful. James intends to propose to Lily before Christmas this year. And Peter has started to date someone; Paulette is her name, I think. Taking a break from the Order has given me time to think which has thoroughly depressed me. I believe I was better off buried under all of those maps.  
  
  
 **31 August 1978**  
Some Aurors, acting on an "anonymous" tip, broke up a Death Eater gathering in Kent. Way to go Dedalus! One arrest was made- Crabbe, the big oaf. I don’t know how he managed to graduate Hogwarts or get married. Here’s the unbelievable part: Lucius Malfoy vouched for him and got all charges dropped. Stupid bloody Ministry. Stupid, bloody, pureblood loving ministry officials.


	9. September 1978

  
Author's notes: **The last letter from his soldier is opened. Much smut again. And a reconciliation.**  


* * *

**2 September 1978**  
  
I miss Sirius. Even if he fidgeted and sighed long-sufferingly whenever I was studying or reading (not paying attention to him). Even if he and James got me into trouble or convinced me to slag off on my Prefect duties. Even if he led Snape to almost certain death. Even if he stole my Beatles and Bowie records. Even if he left his towel on the bathroom floor. Even if he… the point is, I miss him a lot. But I don’t know how to fix things between us. I’ve been the one whom everyone comes to when they were having relationship problems. And I can’t solve my own problem, everyone else’s- sure fine, no worries. I bloody hate irony.  
  
**5 September 1978**  
  
The full moon falls on a Tuesday this month, so I’ll have to have off that day and Wednesday. At least it’s not on a Friday. Those are damn near impossible to get off. Joe, the owner, likes me so it shouldn’t be a problem if one happens to fall on a weekend. I think my pen is running out if ink. Bollocks. Found another. I’ve got hundreds. Pens are much easier to write with than quills. Although quills do allow you breaks in writing so you can think before you continue. Ah well. So, I still haven’t run into Sirius or heard from him. James said that he said to meet at the cottage for the full. I am dreading the impending confrontation between Sirius and myself. It wouldn’t be so terrifying if it were just the two of us, but James and Peter will be there to witness it. I really cannot stand that level of embarrassment. And bollocks! Now this pen is running out of ink. Just when I’ve got some good thoughts going. I suppose it is a sign to go back to quills and parchments and organise the scraps of paper, and transcribe them into a coherent report. What the? Oh Merlin’s balls! Regulus was spotted in late August at a “rally” for Voldemort in Derbyshire. Piss and bollocks. I wonder if Sirius knows this yet.  
  
**6 September 1978**  
  
Had lunch with Peter today. He has a girlfriend (finally), Paulette. That was rude of me. Fuck it, like he’s ever going to see this journal. And my friends went on about my supposed virginal state? I didn’t want to date anybody at school and risk having them discover my secret. That’s not to say that I didn’t get laid over the holidays. I lost my virginity the summer before my fourth year. What was her name? Anais, a pretty sixteen year old from Nice. I like that area much better than Paris. Well, more incoherent babbling in my journal today; I miss Sirius…  
  
  
**8 September 1978**  
  
I miscalculated. The full moon is on the 13th, Monday. What’s happening to me? I can’t even remember the lunar phase! So, I need Tuesday off from work. And James will not be there as he has an assignment. A top secret one that I can’t tell Sirius about. So it will be myself, Padfoot and Wormtail for the moon. Great. Peter’s not exactly a good mediator. He doesn’t take sides at all. Which does have its advantage, but not when you need to decide something. You can’t sit on the fence forever.  
  
**9 September 1978**  
  
I sent Dumbledore the last of my reports. It doesn’t look good. Voldemort is gaining more pureblood support while killing off those who oppose him. The Prewetts were attacked last night. They got out all right, but their home was destroyed. I’m really worried for Sirius. He could become a target. He’s a pureblood who turned his back on his bigoted family. And he’s a powerful wizard. He will most likely climb through the ranks of the Aurors swiftly. Voldemort is also attempting to recruit werewolves. He’ll find it difficult as the numbers are getting thinner and we’re scattered all over the place. Plus, I think we have more to lose if we get caught in his service. But I expect the Ministry to write newer, more restrictive werewolf legislation within the next few months. I think Dumbledore might be sending me on a few trips shortly…  
  
**10 September 1978**  
  
Bloody fucking hell! Peter just told me that now Sirius is going on assignment during the full moon too! I told Peter not to worry about it; I’ll go to my parents again. I really fucking hate this!  
  
**11 September 1978**  
  
Day trip on the outskirts of Prague. Meeting with four area werewolves. Need to convince not to side with Voldemort. Prague is full of history… Not about to go bookish now. Ah, here comes one of them now.  
  
**12 September 1978**  
  
Thankfully, one of them could speak English, as my Czech is terrible. Apparently, they are unofficial leaders, if that’s the right word, spokesmen, more like, of the Romanian and Czech werewolves. They have no intention of helping an egomaniacal madman interested in the purity of blood. Furthermore, they seemed surprised and genuinely moved when they learned that I had studied at Hogwarts under Dumbledore. They pledged their support to him should he ever need it. Then it was my turn to be shocked. All that I have heard about… Well, it was most likely misinformation, wasn’t it? Werewolves are human except for full moon nights, quite capable of rational thought most times. Anyway, Dumbledore should be pleased by this news.  
  
**13 September 1978**  
  
I’m at my parents’ house. About to go to the shed. God I miss Sirius. Miss his lips wrapped around my cock. Miss his heat, the tight muscles squeezing me dry. Miss… Bollocks! Need to get to the shed!  
  
**15 September 1978**  
  
It took all of yesterday for me to recover. Poppy came by to fix me up. I couldn’t get home until late last night. I don’t feel like going into the gruesome details. Let’s just say I’ll have a few new scars. Anyway, I found that letter from Sirius. I’m afraid to open it. I haven’t heard from him at all. Not even through James or Peter. I have finally realised that I will have to be the one to end the silence. I haven’t figured out how to do that though. Thus my dilemma never ends. I can’t take much more of this.  
  
**16 September 1978**  
  
Still going insane, plus I have to do the shopping on Sunday. The club has been let for a party that night. I need to pick up fifteen pounds of ground beef Sunday at MacGregor’s Meats. Lovely. Next they’ll want me to cook it too! I’m a bloody bartender, not Julia Childs! Sorry, but I’ve not had sex in over a month and have no time for a decent wank. Add in recovering from a bitch of a transformation… I’m very irritable to say the least. Well, since I’ve got a few moments, I’ll open that letter now.  
  
_11 July 1978_  
  
Remus,  
I just finished reading your letter. I’m glad you found a flexible job. Prongs wanted to know if our drinks would be “on the house” when we come to visit you at work. I told him not to take advantage of your good nature. He told me that giving us free drinks was the least you could do and “Sod off, Sirius.” Then we proceeded to go into an absurd comedic bantering contest.   
I am tired and sore most of the time. Naturally, I have acquired an obsessive longing for a long, hot bubble bath. Do you think Dumbledore would mind if I asked to use the Prefect’s bath?

__  
I hate that you’ll be alone next week. I know you’ve done it most of your life, but you don’t have to anymore. Prongs and I will be back in August, just in time. I hate seeing you suffer and I hate that there’s nothing I can do to stop the pain… I love you. I know I’ve said it before, but you can’t ignore ink and parchment. I love you. And I miss you terribly.  
I miss how you kick off all the covers and freeze my bollocks off. I miss your morning breath. I miss your bed hair. I miss how you scowl at me when I’m being too tough on Peter. I miss the smell of your sweat. I miss how exasperated I can make you. I miss beating you at chess. I miss helping you with potions. I miss you breathing down my neck, trying to get me to study more.

_  
I miss the taste of your skin. I miss the moan you make when I nibble on your earlobe. I miss how you take control without taking it away from me. You make me sweat, and then you lick it up. Your tongue delves into every crevice, over every muscle on my body. You tease my nipples, making me moan louder and louder. You lick up my throat, over my lips, making me so hard it hurts. You press your body against mine. While your tongue is busy stifling my moans, your cock rubs against mine and I could die, begging for release. You keep thrusting against me; I’m almost crying with need._

__  
You break off the kiss, sit back on your heels, your erection prominent, glistening, and you turn me over. You pull on my hips; I get on all fours. You run your hands up my back, watching my muscles tense and shudder with anticipation. You stretch out over my back, your cock brushing against my arse. You start at the back of my neck: nip then lick. You continue down my back: nip, lick, nip, lick, nip, lick, lick, swirl, nip, lick paying extra attention to my arse. You work your way inward spreading my cheeks with your hands. I feel your hot breath fanning across my opening. Your tongue darts out and licks up the cleft. God I love your tongue. You draw circles around my opening before penetrating it. You push past the ring, tongue curled, I’m keening. Your tongue pushes further in, unrolls, wiggles and I can’t help myself. I start stroking my leaking cock in rhythm with your tongue. You keep probing, stretching me, preparing me for your cock. Your tongue isn’t enough; it is only a tease. I need you to fu-Shite–! Will continue in next letter.  
  
Sirius   
  
  
**17 September 1978**  
  
I’m the world’s biggest wanker. I feel like utter crap. I read the last letter Sirius sent me. While the last two paragraphs did provide phenomenal wanking material, the rest broke my heart. He really did love me, not just the sex. I mean, he didn’t just think about sex. I didn’t give him any leverage. I wrote him off without a second thought… Because I was scared. I still am scared. He makes me feel things I can’t explain or analyse. The wolf in me enjoys that and that is what scares me, losing control of myself. The world is not going to end if say, the spirit moves me to shag Sirius in a public toilet, or if I wanted to play Seeker in a pick up games of Quidditch. I need to take risks from time to time. Keep the blood pumping and the adrenal glands working and all that rot. I wonder if I should start a letter to Sirius? This could take days.  
  
**19 September 1978**  
  
Just got home from work. I ran into Sirius in London today. I still don’t know what to say. It was a shock running into him. There was so much to say; yet, I didn’t want to say it. Wasn’t the right moment. I need to send him a letter. I don’t think I told him where I worked. Not like he’ll pop in to see me. Why should he? Our conversation today consisted of inconsequential babble and awkward pauses. He’s having someone over for dinner tonight. It’s probably only James, right? Sirius would have told me if it were someone else, just to rub my nose in it.  
  
**20 September 1978**  
  
Wrote a letter to Sirius and sent it off. I’m afraid I’m now babbling in letters. I started off with my usual reserve, then cursed, and then ceased hiding behind a wall of pretences. I have no idea what to say to Sirius other than “I’m sorry,” but that doesn’t seem to be enough. I was justified in dumping him, but I didn’t explain why. I didn’t want to validate the feelings of being used; I didn’t want to believe that Sirius would do that to me. And I can’t put all of what I just wrote into a letter. Not yet. I don’t want to make myself that vulnerable. In Order business, Dumbledore is pleased with my work in Prague. As a reward, he’s put me back on paperwork. Mostly analysing maps and D.E. activity. We’re trying to find central locations to see if the Aurors can’t make a few raids. Anything would be helpful now. Voldemort keeps gaining following, most of them due to fear. Thank Merlin for Dumbledore.  
  
**22 September 1978**  
  
Have not received a reply from Sirius yet. I’m sure I’ll get one within the next two days. He’s always impatient. I met Lily for lunch today. I’m afraid I was still quite groggy and not paying attention to her. She complained about James, I think. Something about his first day back and he ignores her and goes to Sirius’ for a steak dinner.  
  
**23 September 1978**   
  
I just received an owl from Sirius. I’m torn between feeling like the world’s biggest wanker and feeling like I could commit justifiable homicide. Maybe I could commit murder while feeling like the world’s biggest wanker? It will take me a few days to craft a response to this letter. He’s really pissed me off. Well, I did finally receive the tongue lashing/temper tantrum I knew Sirius would eventually send. Perhaps I should come back to this in a few days. I need to read between the lines and I can only do that when my mind is calm. I can’t fucking believe he brought up his training! Maybe if he had taken my concerns into consideration I wouldn’t have broken it off while he trained to get his foolish arse killed!  
  
**25 September 1978**  
  
Just got back from Bavaria. Had to cut short my “ambassador” trip because the werewolves there were absolutely inhospitable to outsiders. At least they won’t be joining Voldemort either. They keep to themselves, much like the centaurs. I still have not crafted a response to Sirius’ letter. I have read it twenty times now. He’s hurt and he’s lashing out. Perfectly understandable, but he has no idea what I went through since May. Maybe that’s the problem, I should have told him off when we were at school. Not that it would have changed his mind, but maybe I wouldn’t have built up all the resentment towards him. Well, now I have to see Albus before I start my shift tonight. Must let him know the Bavarian trip was a disaster. I think I’m lucky to be back in one piece.  
  
**27 September 1978**  
  
I have broken down the arguments in Sirius’ letter, having surmised it’s overall theme is “fuck you.” Thankfully, Sirius can elaborate on such a simple theme, which gives me something to reply to. I think I’ll address the actual break up letter and my reasons for doing so. And then I’ll tell him off. Where does he get the nerve telling me how I should break up with him when he left me out of his career choice? Getting angry again. Not a good mood to be in when writing a letter. I realise how I must have hurt him. I suppose I forgot who Sirius is when he isn’t acting like himself. That last sentence made absolutely no sense. I ought to start writing that letter.  
  
**29 September 1978**  
  
I sent the letter yesterday. I did tell him “fuck you too” as well as divulging the contents of my confused mind. I think I apologised quite well; I might have even been flirting a bit. I did have a realisation as to why we never told each other off like Lily does James; we were still acting like friends. I stayed in the pattern of allowing my friends to get away with more than they should, still afraid of losing the friendship if I put my foot down. You can’t do that in a relationship; you need boundaries, otherwise you feel as though you are constantly being used. The stakes and emotions are much higher and you’re much more vulnerable.


	10. October 1978

**1 October 1978**  
  
Haven’t received a reply from Sirius yet. At least I got a few things off of my chest. I had training with Moody at 4 am today. It’s quite lovely to get in from work at 3:30 am and have exhaustive physical training at some moor in Scotland for two hours before sunrise. It was cold, damp, and I was bloody tired. Dumbledore is not sending me on anymore ambassador trips; he doesn’t want me in trouble with the Ministry.  
  
 **2 October 1978**  
  
Got a short reply from Sirius. He’s a right bastard. He angered me on purpose as he claims it is the only way he knows how to get me to “open up.” He knows just how to toy with me. Hmm, does this line mean he’s coming on to me: “the enormity of my sex… drive…” Subtlety was never his greatest strength. His letter did make me smile. But I need to address this issue about my not being “open.” Our ideas of openness differ. He blurts out whatever he’s thinking or feeling regardless of the consequences; whereas, I reflect first then decide whether it would be best to keep quiet or speak up. There are less apologies and hurt feelings that way. Plus, I’m already a werewolf; I don’t need foot-in-mouth disease too. He wants my opinion on curtain patterns? Well, two can play the teasing game. And I am a much better tease than he is.  
  
 **4 October 1978**  
  
A day off from everything, bliss. Maybe I gave Sirius too much hope. I didn’t mean by my curtain comment to suggest that I would be living with him. I was merely implying that in the near future I might spend a few nights over there. Naked. In bed with an equally nude Sirius. Hopefully, we would both be well sated. And naked, but I mentioned that. I wonder how long it will take him to respond to my latest letter?  
  
 **5 October 1978**  
  
No reply from Sirius. Maybe he’s too busy doing celebratory gymnastics to calm down and write a response. Lily is sure that James will be proposing to her soon. Personally, I think we’re all too young to be making that sort of commitment. I’ve never considered marriage as an option. Who would want to tie herself to a werewolf? Households don’t need two adults becoming cranky during “that time of the month.” And then I discovered that I liked men. Actually, one in particular, but I settled for a few flings in the meantime, only to discover that he returned my feelings. And what did I do? I discarded him when we had a problem he didn’t know we were having because I didn’t want to discuss it. That’s a total cock-up on my part. So now I think we’re fixing the problem. I hope we are. I miss him.  
  
 **7 October 1978**  
  
Well, I received a letter from Sirius. He’s going on an assignment soon. And Peter has set him up on a blind date. With a woman. Sirius was quite adamant in his letter about not liking tits and vaginas. He says something about me mounting my noble steed and coming to his rescue. Unfortunately I can’t as this date occurs on Saturday and I have to work. I wouldn’t object to a mounting though. Particularly if the mountee had previously disowned the most noble and ancient house of Black. Need to add that as a postscript and send it off now. Done. Let’s see how he reacts to an overt sexual invitation, because I’m tired of wanking. And I miss making him come. Actually, I miss a lot of things about him. Starting from our friendship and continuing through everything else.  
  
 **9 October 1978**  
  
Another letter from Sirius; he missed my postscript, I’m certain of it. Either that or he’s too pissed off about the date horror to comprehend the enormity of my statement. I need to have a shower and get dressed; I’m running a bit behind schedule. I’ll have to put my make-up on when I get to work, just some lip-gloss and eyeliner though.  
  
 **10 October 1978**  
  
Just got in from work. I completely lost control tonight. Sirius was having a pee in one of the cubicles in the employee’s loo when I came in. I was so focused on being late that I didn’t realise he was there until he came out of the stall and I saw his reflection. Yes, need to apologise straight away. Where’s my parchment?  
  
 **11 October 1978**  
  
Sent off an apology. I found a letter from Sirius in which he addresses my postscript about mounting. I wanted to so desperately Saturday night. He was right there and quite ready. He even took off my shirt. I’ve missed his hands, the way they make my skin buzz. Thousands of tiny pinpricks of electric heat: his lips, his tongue, him, and what he does to me. I want to melt into him. His hands were everywhere Saturday, his cock rubbing against mine. God his arse looked good in those trousers; it felt good too. I WANT HIM. Preferably naked and writhing underneath me. And incapable of coherent speech. I’d prefer panting and moaning, but I wouldn’t object to a well-shouted “ohgodyesyesfuckmepleaseyesohgodharderpleaseremus!” Wouldn’t mind that at all. Bugger, need to go take another shower.  
  
 **12 October 1978**

I have two days off starting today. Off from everything. Granted, tonight is the full moon, so tomorrow’s already booked for recovery. I’m quite on edge. I think I’ll make some tea and put some photos into my albums; I’ve been meaning to do that since June, I just haven’t had the time.

**3:45 pm**

Just finished putting the last of the photos into the album. I got sidetracked by some photos of my sixth year at school. I had an unexpected growth spurt from five feet five inches to six feet. As if I weren’t gangly and awkward before… Sirius and James were lucky; they grew in moderation, a few inches a year, not half a foot in one month. I felt so freakish that year, for a number of reasons. I’m only now growing into my frame and that’s because Moody is a slave driver. Thanks god I have a few days off from him. I suppose I am becoming more comfortable with my physical appearance. I’m not parading around my flat starkers admiring my reflection from all angles, but I am more comfortable with myself. I did acquire a few new scars from last month, but they’re nothing noticeable, except for Sirius. Fuck. Why did I tell him I’d be there early? We don’t need to talk alone. We don’t need to be alone full stop. Nothing would stop me from… Let me think. James and Peter should be there by seven at the latest. If I get there close to six-thirty, someone would be early and ruin any kind of “mood” we may have got into. Perfect! Remember to bring my journal. I doubt Sirius will let me do anything strenuous tomorrow. He can be worse than Madam Pomfrey sometimes!

**13 October 1978**

About bloody time he left me alone. Sirius is cooking lunch. He’s been mothering me all morning. You shag someone on the bathroom floor and on their bedroom floor and they attach themselves to your hip! Oh Merlin, did I lose control yesterday. If Sirius hadn’t kept his wits about him, Peter would have walked in on me buggering Sirius into the sofa. Thankfully Sirius had enough self-control to get us into the bathroom and turn on the tap, but we never made it into the tub. Sirius had his wand in the bedroom so he cast a silencing charm for the second shag. Moony was too controlling for my liking. Although Sirius didn’t complain. I think he may be a sex addict, if there is such a condition. I’m still a bit weak, but I should be moving around this afternoon, if Sirius allows me.

**14 October 1978**

Some muggles broke into my flat yesterday. They stole my radio and some records. Thankfully I had brought all of my work with me to Sirius’. Dumbledore insists that I stay at the cottage until he finds someplace more secure for me. I’m temporarily moving to the cottage while Sirius is away on assignment for the ministry. Speaking of the devil, he tried my resolve yesterday, not like I had the energy to do much about it. I settled into the library to work; Sirius went to the living room to prepare for his mission. I went to make tea, which meant I had to pass through the living room to the kitchen. Sirius was doing sit-ups while wearing only shorts. He’s filled into his frame quite nicely as well. I was too busy buggering him on Tuesday to truly appreciate the effect his training has had on his body. That man could have anyone he wants, really anyone, and he wants to be with a werewolf, a male, gangly, awkward, bookish, slightly mischievous, scarred werewolf. Sirius Black is completely nutters.

**15 October 1978**

Second day of Sirius’ assignment. I’m really worried about him. He’s so bloody reckless it’s unfathomable. I am scared of losing him. If he would just sit still and follow orders, I’d be much more at ease. Maybe if he were allowed to send letters I wouldn’t worry so much. I don’t like this. I don’t like that we jumped into bed together without talking about it before or after. We need to discuss things.

**16 October 1978**

_Dear Sirius,  
Even though you’ll never get this letter because: one, I have no intention of sending it, and two, I’m writing it in my journal, I need to express how I’m feeling without yelling at you. First, I miss you too. Second, I hope you are wearing two pairs of woollen socks. Third, why the fuck did you have to become an Auror? Why couldn’t you find a nice, boring desk job and be safe with me? Moody would have trained you and with your gift for languages, you could be on ambassador trips with me instead of chasing giants all over Siberia. Please come home alive and with minimal damage._

**17 October 1978**

_Dear Sirius,  
I really fucking hate you. How can you make me feel like the only person in the universe and then go off and leave me alone to worry about you? You’re a fucking bastard and it’s not fair._

**18 October 1978**

_Dear Sirius,  
I don’t hate you, not really. You have this ability to make people feel truly loved, like they are the only person on the planet who matters to you. i love you i love you i love you. Come home soon._

**19 October 1978**

Not in the mood to write a note to Sirius. Not really in the mood to write in my journal, but I have a free moment and didn’t feel like wasting it. I miss him.

**20 October 1978**

I am sitting in a Laundromat because the towels and aprons needed washing before tonight. So I’m sitting in a Laundromat watching the aprons and towels spin around in the dryer. It is oddly soothing; it puts one into a trance-like state. Ah yes, speaking of “deer in headlights,” James’ birthday is tomorrow. I hope they’re all right, wherever they are.

_Dear Sirius,  
Have you got on your woollen socks? I wonder what you have planned for James’ birthday… I’m certain you do have something planned; you never miss a party. We all need to meet up to celebrate when you get back home. Dumbledore found me a new flat. It’s nicer than my last one. You should see it sometime. I miss you._

**21 October 1978**

_Dear Sirius,_  
Tell James Happy Birthday from me. Oh, and would you hurry the fuck up and find the giants? I’m tired of worrying about you coming home in one piece.  
  
**23 October 1978**  
  
_Dear Sirius,  
Still out in Siberia? How much longer are you going to be? How did you celebrate James’ Birthday? I drank a toast to him—an entire bottle of Firewhiskey. Poor Peter passed out trying to keep up with me; Lily wound up crying after Peter passed out. Were I a girl, I would have joined her. But alas, I am not; I don’t have tits or a vagina, for which I am eternally grateful. As I recall, you vehemently do not like those body parts. I wish you would get your body parts home soon. I miss them. And, I’m going to regret saying this (even if you’ll never see it, somehow you will know): you are the best friend and lover that I have ever known. Miss you._

**24 October 1978**

_Dear Sirius,_  
Why aren’t you home yet? How bloody difficult is it to find GIANTS? Is your supervisor that much of an idiot? Moody thinks he is. Well, Moody’s a bit paranoid about Rookwood. He also says to not let Avery get the better of you or James. Please come home soon. And make sure to take a few days off; you and I will need them, promise.

**26 October 1978**

I can’t write any more letters! I can’t stand this worrying. It’s been almost two bloody weeks! I know Siberia is a vast region, but didn’t they have at least a fifty-mile radius on the giants’ settlement? Fuck! I start work in an hour and oh, fire call.

It was James calling from the Ministry. They’re back, unharmed, and Sirius is under suspension pending review of a charge of insubordination by Rookwood. James is going to Moody’s straight away and he suggested that I go to the cottage after work to make sure that Sirius didn’t do anything stupid. Clearly, Sirius is really hacked off about all of this.

**27 October 1978**

I am at the cottage. Last night I found Sirius unconscious in the alley right aside of the Glitter Collar. Moody is certain that he was attacked and left there. Sirius hasn’t shown any sign of movement other than breathing. A Healer has been by and confirmed Moody’s suspicions: she thinks Sirius had been repeatedly hit with the Cruciatus. We won’t know the extent of the damage until he wakes up, if he does. I failed to mention that he reeked of alcohol when I found him, but I think Moody figured that out by himself. Peter’s coming round so I can have a rest before I go to work tonight. James, Lily, Peter, and I are taking turns playing nurse… I’m scared, like I never have been before. Please let him be all right…

**30 October 1978**

Sirius woke up this afternoon. Maybe it was the smell of my tea, I don’t know. Then he passed out again. Wait, he’s awake again. Need to check on him.

**31 October 1978**

Happy Halloween! Sirius ate a few things yesterday and is awake for longer periods today. All of his mental faculties appear to be fine. He’s quite weak though and is not allowed to do magic for two weeks, Healer’s orders. We’ll have to work overtime in a few days to make sure he follows those orders. I am tempted to hide his wand now, just in case.


	11. November 1978

**1 November 1978**  
  
I am spending my second day off looking after a stubborn git. Yesterday Sirius had to go to the toilet. Rather than asking for my help, he decided to get to the bathroom by himself; he collapsed in the hallway. So I found him and helped him to the toilet with him sniping all the way. He’s still sniping today. I am tempted to tie him to his bed and place a silencing charm on him, but then I wouldn’t know if he really needed my help. I know he’s just angry about this whole situation (Rookwood, Avery, his inability to do anything about it) and he’s taking it out on the most convenient target-me. We’ve worked out a schedule for his care. I’m on until I go to work and my days off, Peter comes in on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday while I’m at work, and James and Lily come in on Friday and Saturday while I’m at work. I’d like to know when I’m supposed to get any bloody sleep. Great, the insufferable git is bellowing for me. At least we know his lungs are in perfect working order!  
  
 **2 November 1978**  
  
The nightmare continues… First off, I must say that Poppy Pomfrey deserves sainthood. That being said, I CAN’T TAKE MUCH MORE OF THIS! Moody brought Sirius a cane yesterday, which meant that Sirius thought he had license to walk all day long. He started doing tricks with the cane; I thought he was going to hurt either himself or myself. I almost tied him to the bed. Almost. He did spend most of the afternoon helping me organise the last of my reports. His mood improved while he did that. But today he is trying to walk around as much as possible before the Healer comes to check on him. He says he wants to have a healthy colour to his cheeks. I said it won’t matter what colour his cheeks are if he’s passed out from exhaustion when she arrives. He broke the tea cups half an hour ago so now he’s having a sulk. I can’t wait for Peter to arrive; I’ll be able to have a quick nap before work and escape Sirius. I hope.  
  
 **4 November 1978**  
  
I HATE that bloody Healer! She had to tell Sirius that he is recovering faster than any patient she has had. And I thought he was impossible before? HAH! At least she still emphasised the “no magic” rule. But when have rules ever stopped Sirius Black? I’m operating on less than three hours of sleep a day; I’m quite irritable. Plus the full moon is only six days away AND Sirius is driving me completely mental. Good, Peter’s here. An hour late, but he’s here. I’m going to work so I can get some peace.  
  
 **5 November 1978**  
  
All that walking around Sirius has been doing must have worn him out. It’s tea time and he hasn’t got out of bed yet. I don’t know if he’s even been up at all today. Of course, I got in at three this morning and collapsed on the sofa. Moody woke me up at seven to train until lunch. I better go check on Sirius.  
  
 **4:40 pm**  
That bloody, stubborn wanker! He did magic yesterday! I found some rather pointy, silvery matchsticks with a few needles. Who knows what else Peter let him do? No wonder he’s sleeping like the dead. Just wait until he wakes up! I haven’t sacrificed my time, sleep, and energy to his recovery for him to act this foolishly!  
  
 **7 November 1978**  
  
I got in from work Friday at four in the morning. Sirius was awake when I checked on him. As I was sleep deprived and had a bad night at work, I proceeded to yell at him about the needles, my lack of sleep, his stubbornness, that I thought he was dead when I found him in the alley that night, and then I started to sob… In other words, I had a complete emotional breakdown. I slept most of Saturday in Sirius’ bed. Sirius woke me near supper time claiming that I had to get up so James would stop snickering when he came into the room. I assured Sirius that we would exact our revenge upon James swiftly. Although I did ask Lily how she managed to get James’ drool out of her hair that morning. I’m glad things are returning to normal for all of us. I’ve missed those small moments of messing about.  
  
 **8 November 1978**  
  
Sirius is a bit angry with me; I confiscated his wand. He’ll get over it. He’s feeling much better; he has his strength back, among other things as he announced to James, Lily and myself yesterday. He’s not dropped anything or had to pause while walking around the cottage. We’re outside enjoying what’s left of autumn. He’s raking a pile of leaves; I know they’ll be down my back in five minutes or less. I’ve taken off this week; I need it. And it will give me extra recovery time from the moon on Wednesday night.  
  
 **10 November 1978**  
  
I’m not certain if I should avoid Sirius today. His health is much improved although Padfoot will not be making an appearance tonight. The cottage smells like Sirius and that is causing problems for me. I don’t know how long I can control myself. And I’m fairly sure that too much repression will result in catastrophe when I’ve transformed… I want to be inside him, rolling my hips, thrusting deeper, biting into his skin, hearing him moan, licking the sweat off his back… This won’t do. Moonrise is in an hour and James is here. Well, he’s outside setting up an obstacle course to keep Moony entertained tonight. Sirius just came in to check on me and he’s not leaving. This is not going to end well. Fuck it.  
  
 **11 November 1978**  
  
I dislocated my shoulder last night. Poppy’s been by and mended me. Sirius made us stew for lunch; I ate a little of it. I’ll be ready to eat to supper; sometimes it takes me a bit to get my appetite back.  
  
 **12 November 1978**  
  
Spent most of yesterday afternoon drifting in and out of sleep. This means that I fell behind in my work for the Order. I am trying to get myself caught up today. Sirius has to go into the ministry shortly to receive the results of the investigation. Mad-Eye has told him not to worry; so Sirius will be pacing until he goes in this afternoon. I think he’s supposed to be there by one o’clock. I don’t know if I’ll get much work done while he’s gone. Which is odd, because I usually blame his presence for my lack of results. When he worries, I worry. I think he may worry more than I do. He certainly winds up faster than I. I want to go with for moral support, but Sirius has forbidden myself, James, and Peter from stepping foot in the ministry. Yes, even James who works in the office. Sirius gets worked up too easily; it can’t be good for him. If Mad-Eye says that there’s nothing to worry about, then there really isn’t anything to worry about. I suppose this job means more to him than he’s admitted. Plus he hates double-crossing, subversive, political crap more than I do. Great, I’m rambling, lovely. Best try to accomplish something today. Off to play secretary and transcribe minutes.  
  
 **7:30 pm**  
  
Sirius is no longer suspended. He has to take a re-entry exam on Monday. This means that my weekend will be spent helping him prepare. James will be by to help as well. I feel so scattered lately. Maybe it’s due to my short holiday. Or the full moon two days ago. Or perhaps I had hoped that they wouldn’t lift Sirius’ suspension. Selfish of me, really, especially seeing how greatly his mood has improved. He even sang while he cooked supper. I don’t want him to get himself killed; I want him alive and with me.  
  
 **14 November 1978**  
  
I need to get back to my normal schedule. Today I am staying up until four in the morning and then going to sleep. I start back at work on Tuesday. This holiday has been nice. Sirius gets more of his strength back each day. Today he levitated the sofa as well as making James tap dance. Lily seemed rather amused by the effects of Sirius’ and James’ duel. We care about each other very much; I mean to say all of us cherish? revel in? enjoy? our friendship. I suppose there isn’t a word that quite fits yet. Once again I’ve gone soppy. I really must get back to work and regain my sanity.  
  
 **16 November 1978**  
  
Sirius finds out today whether or not he passed his exam. He feels confident that he did. We went for a celebratory flight last night. Slowly, I am becoming less afraid of that flying monstrosity. Give me a good broom any day and I’m happy. Although, the seat on the bike is quite comfortable for longer trips. I shouldn’t be encouraging Sirius to further heights of illegality. Now, I love the bike when it’s on the ground; I will agree with Sirius that it is, er, “sex on wheels.” However, keep it on the ground; I’d like for neither of us to be killed or arrested. I think that’s why he flies it at night; less chance to be caught equals less griping from me. Maybe I shouldn’t worry so much. See? I’m babbling again. I wish Sirius would find out whether or not he passed.  
  
 **6:30 pm**  
  
He passed. He starts back to work tomorrow. At least he’s happy.  
  
 **17 November 1978**  
  
Sirius went back to work today. What he doesn’t know is that he and James per Moody’s request will be training with cursebreakers in Egypt in the beginning of December. I’m supposed to shadow one of the Aurors; Moody suspects him of being one of Voldemort’s spies. The catch is that no one is supposed to know I’m there. I won’t go into what the ministry would do to a dark creature caught spying on the ministry for a secret operative. Dumbledore cannot protect me from everything. Plus, I don’t want to piss off Moody. The goblins have agreed to pay me in artefacts they have no use for, which is anything not made out of a precious metal or adorned with jewels. It will be difficult keeping this from Sirius; he will **know** I am nearby. I hope I don’t cock this up.  
  
 **18 November 1978**  
  
It’s amazing what a guilty conscience can make one do. Yesterday I went to Sirius’ around four o’clock; I made supper for us. Later that night, I returned after my shift and crawled into bed with him. In the morning, I got up, met Moody, went to my flat, slept, and have now returned to the cottage to once again surprise Sirius with supper. I need to stop this or he will become suspicious. I do not need to rouse his curiosity, not with moody breathing down my neck.  
  
 **20 November 1978**  
  
Did not go to Sirius’ yesterday. Although I will most likely go there after work tonight. He hasn’t told me about his assignment; I know he’s known since Thursday. I suppose he didn’t feel like telling me that night. I don’t know why I’m making an issue of it. He will tell me, even though the act is pointless as I already know about the assignment.  
  
 **21 November 1978**  
  
Sirius has told me about his assignment. I believe he did not appreciate my somewhat non-chalant response. He didn’t have a tantrum or anything of the sort, but he has been staring at me rather oddly. I need to find some way of distracting him so he won’t ask questions; once he starts, he will not stop.  
  
 **22 November 1978**  
  
Irrefutable truths: Sirius is quite sensitive to the moods of others, and sex distracts him from whatever had his focus. If I need to keep something from him, we should have more sex. As though I would be able to do such a thing; I do have a conscience. I met with one of Moody’s contacts in Egypt today. I had maybe five hours of sleep. It will be worth it just for the knowledge I’ll gain about the ancient Egyptians. And help find Voldemort’s spies in the ministry.  
  
 **24 November 1978**  
  
I have made the catastrophic mistake of inviting Sirius to distract me at work. So far he hasn’t taken me up on my offer. I hope he doesn’t, especially not on a Friday or Saturday night. I have so much information to remember for Egypt. Thankfully, we covered hieroglyphs in Ancient runes. Some of the hieroglyphs warn which hexes are used, some tell a myth, others tell part of the deceased’s life, and the rest are riddles. Muggles have only deciphered the mythological ones, and quite poorly at that. Egyptian gods, really, they were just some of the most powerful wizards of their time. I can see how muggles would label them “gods.” Anyway, I am looking forward to gaining firsthand experience with Ancient Egypt.  
  
 **25 November 1978**  
  
I shouldn’t have mentioned anything; I tempted fate. Fortune smiled upon me last night as I didn’t get sacked or reprimanded. Either my boss didn’t know what went on, or he didn’t care. Sirius popped by last night. Need I say more? Well, we did finish what we started in the employee’s loo in October. Much to my current chagrin, I quite enjoyed fucking Sirius at work: illicit activities, the fear of getting caught, the exhilaration of getting away with it, and the intense pleasure of being balls deep inside of Sirius. I am doomed. Doomed, doomed, DOOMED. If Moody doesn’t kill me, Sirius will and depending upon the circumstances, James would willingly help either of them. I must remain focused on my mission. There is nothing sexy about mummies and hieroglyphs. Better start packing.  
  
 **28 November 1978**  
  
Had a send-off with Sirius this afternoon. He’s supposed to check into his hotel in Cairo this evening. I’m supposed to be at the residence by eight tonight. Dumbledore is borrowing it from a friend. I suspect it belongs to Flamel. On another note, my friends have been a bad influence on me. I am devising ways to meet up with Sirius in Egypt. I thought it would be a good way to surprise him. He does get the weekend off. I should see about doing something this coming Sunday, if I don’t get caught before then.  
  
 **30 November 1978**  
  
The Auror I’ve been following is in James’ group. I’m using disillusionment charms and Moody’s invisibility cloak. However, the cloak is becoming a bit of a nuisance in the narrow passages in the tombs. I also received post from Sirius. He still thinks I am in England as he asked me to send my reply with his owl. I need to remember to send the reply with his owl when I go home this evening. Wait, I need to post date the letter. I don’t know how I’m going to keep up all of these illusions!


	12. December 1978

  
Author's notes:

Christmas and new living arrangements.

* * *

**1 December 1978**  

So far this Auror hasn’t done anything suspicious. Perhaps he hasn’t reached the proper tomb yet. Perhaps Moody is too paranoid. Perhaps our information is wrong. In other news, I have decided to send Sirius a Howler. Oh, he’s not in trouble, but I thought I’d charm it to sound out a C. He did ask for a brief note after all. Despite travelling between Egypt and London and working 16+ hours a day, I am in good spirits. I still have Sundays off. That will be my sleep day. Well, I do have Saturdays off from Egypt and Mondays off from the club. London _is_ two hours behind Egypt. So I get in from the club, shower, and Apparate to Egypt. When Egypt is down, Apparate home, shower, nap, and then club. I think I’m eating meals in between, somewhere. I forget to eat sometimes. I’ve moved out of my flat (muggle eviction notice when I’ve used silencing charms and been on time with rent money = ministry interference) and into the cottage. I wonder how long it will take Sirius to realise this once he comes home. 

**3 December 1978**  

Had a close call in Egypt today. I thought the Disillusionment Charm had faltered, but I think I was mistaken. Still groggy from my nap, but I have half an hour to wake up. I think I might go to Egypt Saturday night and sleep there until Monday. Moody has made Portkeys for me to use; they’re keyed to the cottage and Dumbledore’s place in Egypt. Less Ministry interference, we hope.  

**4 December 1978**  

The virtue of a good night’s sleep is always underestimated and hardly celebrated. I’m sending the Howler this morning. I think Sirius’ owl misses him, although I can’t be certain. I know I miss him. Spent a few hours at the bazaar earlier today, came home and then slept the afternoon away. Saturday night scene to deal with at the Collar. I think I’ll just stay in Egypt after work; it will be easier on me. Plus Moody could pop by at anytime to see if I found out anything. 

**5 December 1978**

Didn’t have time yesterday to reveal what Christmas presents I bought. With no rent to pay and a steady income, I can afford to buy more than I have in the past. I bought Sirius a craved Anubis statuette, James a cotton caftan in red, Peter a book on the different “gods” and animal myths, Lily, well I ran into her at the bazaar and she talked me into buying her an authentic belly dancing costume to give to her at Christmas. Why? Because “After all these years antler-head spent stalking me you’d think Thickhead Potter would have proposed by now. His mother told me he’s got my ring. Just you wait; he won’t know what hit him.” Be afraid, be very afraid when Lily Evans is on the warpath. She gets this mad, steely glint in her eyes. James has said that it makes her eyes sparkle like “the most exquisite emerald not even the Queen has seen.” Mental, the both of them. Perfect for each too. 

**7 December 1978**  

Alastor Moody will skin me alive. The charm did flicker and James did see me briefly. Which meant that I spent this past Sunday and Monday night in bed with Sirius at his hotel. He’s agreed to continue writing to me as though I’m not in Egypt. I received a letter from him yesterday and have sent a reply… We may as well not even try. Moody will know; he always knows. He’s almost as infuriating as Professor Dumbledore, but at least Dumbledore seems amused half of the time. This is one time he won’t be amused. 

**8 December 1978**  

Sirius has explained to James the reason for his more upbeat attitude the past few days. Apparently England is two hours behind Egypt so I can pop in for a quickie before I go to work. James bought it. And my cover wasn’t blown. Moody’s giving me off on Friday due to the full moon that night. He’s concerned that I won’t be able to concentrate during the day. His assumption is correct. 

**9 December 1978**  

Have not seen Sirius since Monday. Tomorrow night is the Full. I’m starting to go mad; I can see Sirius but he can’t see me and I’m too busy working to pop by for a quickie. I really hope that Sirius Apparates directly home tomorrow right when he his assignment ends. That should give us about two hours before moonrise. Bloody fuck! I bought his Christmas present but completely forgot about his birthday on the 13th! Now what do I do? 

**10 December 1978**  

I know what to do for Sirius’ birthday, if I have the energy for it. I should though. It’s on Monday, one of my days off, so I’ll have all the time I need to prepare for it. Wait, I don’t want to make a heavy supper, that will only make him sluggish. Perhaps put out cheese and crackers with a bottle of wine and a note that I’ll be joining him for supper later. Maybe make up something about a last minute meeting with Moody. Need to keep him away from the bedroom… booby traps? Most definitely and mention that in the note… no wait, hot bath then the wine, no. Hot bath and then dinner in the bedroom. Thank the gods, it’s three o’ clock! Sirius should be home in an hour. Gives us two hours before moonrise. I think I’ll get the first aid kit together and wait for him in the bathroom. Naked.  Birthday, draw a bath, candles, some fresh fruit dipped in chocolate… or have that in the bedroom. This is so frustrating! I’m confusing myself. Today, moon, wait in the shower for Sirius. Eat something first then wait in the shower. Leave note telling him to take a shower. On his birthday do the bath. Heard the front door open, better get into position. 

**11 December 1978**  

It snowed a little last night, enough that paw prints showed in it. If I don’t show up for work tonight, I’ll be fired. Two nights off a month, that’s all I’m ever gone. And there’s no reasonable explanation for Joe’s sudden change in behaviour, except for Ministry interference. Apparently new guidelines have been issued regarding werewolves. We’re not supposed to have night jobs, might make us more dangerous. The new legislation was delivered by owl this morning. Sirius suggested using it as kindling. Speaking of, Sirius is full of righteous indignation on my behalf. Lily will also be stopping by today; she said she needs our help with something. She’s finally cracked. 

**13 December 1978**  

Sirius hates Mondays: really and truly loathes them. If he would have woken me, I could have made him breakfast. As it was, he burnt his breakfast beyond recognition, took a shower without turning on the water until the shampoo was stinging his eyes and not lathering properly, and he stubbed his toe. All in all, not a good start to his nineteenth birthday. I hope this evening more than makes up for the shite beginning. James is taking him out for drinks after work then dropping him home. Sirius thinks I have a meeting with Dumbledore; he looked so pathetic I almost confessed everything. Almost. With any luck, this will be the most memorable birthday to date. 

**5:30 pm**  

Have put a heating charm on the bath. Put a variation of the confundus charm on the note to make certain Sirius takes a bath. Fuck it. We can have a bath together after we have sex. Make sure that the candles aren’t near anything flammable in the bedroom. Check to make sure the wine is chilled. Place a trail of instamatic photos to the bedroom. Oh yes, he won’t forget this night anytime soon. 

**14 December 1978**  

I think Sirius enjoyed his birthday present last night. Well, he did pass out with a smile on his face.  He still hasn’t deduced that we are living together. I’ll give him until Christmas; if he hasn’t figured it out by then, I’ll tell him. 

**15 December 1978**  

Lily needed our help all right. She stopped by to inform us that she knows James has an engagement ring for her. Her father asked her why she wasn’t wearing her engagement ring. Ever tradition, James went to Lily’s father a few months ago to ask for his permission to marry Lily. A shrinking violet Lily is not, Sirius and I will need to have a chat with James the next time we see him. I think Lily is near the breaking point. 

**22 December 1978**  

Five days ago Sirius finally realized that I had moved in with him. He did this of course at four in the morning whilst tripping over my “shite.” After wondering aloud why my shite was strewn all over his house, “why, one would think you live here…” he got it, finally. After that discovery he’s been more lascivious, if that’s even possible. But that steak ended yesterday when he informed me that we were hosting Christmas. He didn’t consult me, just went ahead and invited everyone to his house, not our house. The bloody idiot! I’m the one who keeps this place clean, I’m the one who does the shopping, and I’m the one he needs to ask if it’s okay with me to have the Potters, the Evans, half the bloody Order- I’m going to kill him. Maybe I wanted a quiet Christmas, just the two of us. Sleep in until noon, go to my parents for dinner, come and come together, several times. We could have a party on Boxing Day. Inconsiderate wanker. 

**24 December 1978**  

Sirius has seen reason. Actually, Mrs. Potter has made him see reason. Her response to Sirius’ brilliant idea of hosting Christmas was “What do two boys know about hosting a proper Christmas feast for over twenty people? Also taking into account that the boy who wishes to host this event had no idea that he had a live-in boyfriend for over a month? And as my son finally got around to proposing to that sweet girl, I am not having you lot entertain my future in-laws. You'll scare them off.” I have never seen Sirius turn that many shades of red before. So I’ll be making a pudding for the dinner and Sirius has promised me a Christmas Breakfast Feast. He has been baking cookies all day. I shudder to think of the state of our kitchen. I think he’s also making boiled sweets. I do hope he realises that he mustn’t use that pot for anything other than sweets from now on. Merlin give me strength. 

**31 December 1978**  

There was a Death Eater attack in a muggle area of London on Boxing Day. The muggle authorities are officially blaming the IRA for the attack. Sirius, James, Fabian and I were following a trail afterwards, but it went cold yesterday. We knew they would attack at Christmas; the temptation would be too great. However, we did not anticipate that they would select a muggle target rather than a wizarding one. Now the year is coming to its close. I ought to write new resolutions and reflect upon the past year. As for last year’s resolutions, I had my own flat for a little while, my attraction to Sirius was not a lost cause and I am happier for it, and I did get a few O’s on my N.E.W.T’s. Not that my academic accomplishments matter to the Ministry with the increasingly stifling regulations. Oh yes, further oppression of a group of people will make them side with their oppressors rather than joining with the group who is violently rebelling against those who make the rules. The lack of logic in government never ceases to amaze and sadden me. This is supposed to be a summation of the year, not a rant about current legislative atrocities. Despite the mounting war and the asinine Ministry, this has been a good year for me. I have my friends and I have a mate. As long as we have each other, we can weather any storm or war or government bollocks. I’d better go find Sirius and make us both incoherent for a bit.


End file.
